A tremble moved through the girl, as though she feared the rejection would earn her a punishment.
"Is she not to your liking?" McKell asked.
"I can't drink from anyone but Devyn," she reminded him.
He was silent for a moment. "Who knows? This girl might be the exception. You should try her. She's very sweet." His motions were clipped, a direct contrast to his gentle tone, as he latched onto the girl's other arm and lifted it to his lips. He bit down, hard, but the girl didn't seem to notice.
On and on he drank. First, the girl paled. Then her eyelids drifted closed. Her head lulled to the side as she sank into unconsciousness. Eyes at half-mast, McKell disengaged and leaned back, his back propping against the lounge. His lips were stained crimson. "Sure you don't want to give her a try?"
Bride swallowed back intensified revulsion. It helped that Devyn was beside her, tracing little circles along her back, reminding her of his presence, his strength. Did everyone have slaves like this?
"I'm sure," she said. "At this rate, the girl will be dead by the end of the day." There was no way to hide her disgust.
The warrior frowned. "By the time my hunger returns, she'll be completely replenished.”
“How often do you eat?"
"Once a week. Every vampire here drinks once a week. Don't you?"
Once a week? Lucky. "No, I eat every day. Sometimes I was forced to go longer, but my hunger always returns with the descent of the sun."
His frown deepened, his brow puckering. "Interesting, but no cause for concern. Probably has to do with being raised on the surface." He sighed. "You have other questions, I'm sure."
"Many questions, actually." And she was more than ready to get started on the asking of them. "Where are my parents? Do I even have parents?"
The warrior nodded. He cast Devyn a smug glance, as if to say, See, I can give her what you cannot. "Vampires give birth just as humans do, though it is much harder for us to do so, as our aging process is so gradual. And you do have parents, yes. Or did. They're dead, I'm afraid. Your mother died of sickness. You father died soon after her in a hunting raid."
Dead. Her shoulders dipped. She didn't know them, and so didn't mourn them, but she did mourn the loss of the dream of them. "Is that why I was sent from this place? Because there was no one to take care of me?"
"No. Had they died and left you alone, there would have been a fight for you. Babies are rare and considered precious here. They were killed after sending you to the surface,
So she'd been sent away. Ouch. Wouldn't have stung so much if she'd accidentally wandered off.
So many nights she'd imagined a candy-flowers-and-balloons family reunion. Her parents would have laughed with joy upon seeing her, swept her into their arms, and proclaimed their undying love for her. Instead, they had willingly parted with her.
McKell noticed her upset and sighed. "Do not judge them too harshly. You exhibited signs of
the"—he leaned forward, and when he next spoke, he whispered as if what he said was a curse —"nefreti."
A grim shudder swept through her. "What's that?" she found herself whispering back. An Egyptian queen?
His lips thinned, as if even thinking of it were painful to him. "They are vampires who are far more powerful than anyone should be. Rather than have a single extraordinary ability, as is customary, they have all extraordinary abilities. They are uncontrollable, unstoppable, and because of that they are deemed a threat to the royal family, to everyone really, and killed the moment they are recognized."
Devyn palmed one of those wooden daggers he'd taken to the auction before the last word left the warrior's mouth. He tossed it in the air, as if he hadn't a care. "I don't think it needs to be said that if you touch her, I'll slice you from end to end."
"So suspicious." McKell shook his head. Thankfully he didn't erupt at the sight of that weapon. "I didn't bring her here to kill her. I'm the one who helped send her to the surface, after all, ensuring she lived. Because she had been deemed my bride, I visited her often and already loved her as my own." There at the end, he eyed her expectantly.
"I don't remember you," she admitted. "I don't remember anything about this place."
Another sigh. "No, I don't guess you would. Your mother took the memory of your time here from you, so that you would never return."
So. That's why Bride had had no idea who or what she was. "She could have just told me to stay away. I might have listened."
"We were unwilling to take that chance."
Even knowing it had been done for her own good failed to lessen the sting. She wanted to grab the dagger now resting on Devyn's thigh and stab something.
"Everyone assumes you are dead," McKell said. "As commander of the king's army, I was the one ordered to kill you. Because of my reputation, everyone assumed I would do it. And I meant to. But I couldn't. Even then, you ... affected me. So we branded you, your mother and I, and we sent you to the surface. As I said, she died soon after."
"Of sickness. What kind of sickness? I've never been sick, so I assumed other vampires would never sicken, either."
He shrugged. "Perhaps sickness wasn't the right word. She ... are you sure you wish to know?”
“Yes. And just so you know, I'm about two seconds away from assaulting you for the information." Though it was clear he didn't take her threats seriously, he said, "She died of starvation."
Bride heard the underlying meaning of his words. Her mother had refused to eat. As she clutched her stomach to settle the sudden churning, Devyn pulled her tight against his body. I was loved, after all, she thought. The revelation soothed the hurt she'd been harboring, but also brought a wealth of despair. Her mother had loved her, but had killed herself after sending Bride away.
"I want to remember her," she said softly.
"I'm afraid I cannot help you with that. She didn't just bury your memories; she erased them. That was her ability. And I know what you're thinking. Why didn't she just erase the memory of you from the people here? There are too many people, and each day your powers would have grown. She would have had to remove their memories every day for the rest of your life. One day, she would have missed someone, and word of your presence would have leaked."
She splayed her arms. "If I have all abilities, shouldn't i be able to erase memories? Shouldn't I be able to stop time?"
"One would think so." He arched a brow. "You can't?" She shook her head, wondering if she'd been sent away for nothing. Then she thought of the thorns and the fire.