Chapter 1
Blood slave.
The word was enough to send a cold chill of terror down Arianna’s spine. She shuddered, swallowing heavily, and repeatedly, as she tried to wet her suddenly very parched throat. Her lips hurt, they were chapped and cracking. She’d had nothing to drink in hours; the fire that had consumed parts of the forest had burned into her throat. The smell of smoke clung to her; she could taste the ash upon her tongue. She would have given anything for some water, but she was fairly certain that her misery and discomfort would soon be coming to an end anyway.
The dead did not require water after all.
Surprisingly the thought of being dead aroused even less fear in her than the alternative did. And that alternative was becoming a blood slave. The thought of being kept, of being trapped and used for the most disgusting means known to man, was enough to make her want to rip out her hair and run screaming in horror.
She did neither however, simply because she could not move enough to carry out either action. She was trapped, surrounded, penned in by the bodies crammed tightly against her. The raid on the woods had been successful. The homes of many had been ripped apart, destroyed, set ablaze. Their lives had been irrevocably destroyed; they would never see their loved ones again.
The fortunate ones, the ones that weren’t chosen to be blood slaves, would be bled outright. Their blood would be drained unwillingly, and painfully, from their bodies. A hundred separate needles would pierce their skin before they were finally killed. The blood would be bottled and saved for later use. The unfortunate ones, the blood slaves, would be used over and over and over again before their owner became tired of them and either sold them off, or bled them dry.
Arianna prayed fervently that she would be bled dry at once. She would rather feel the sting of a thousand needles than be repeatedly used for months, or years. However, she had a feeling that if the vampires found out who she was, they would never allow her such a compassionate death. They would never grant her the merciful death she fervently hoped for.
She glanced at the people surrounding her. She knew they would all willingly die before they revealed her identity, she also knew that she had been a fool, a complete idiot for allowing herself to be captured in the first place. If these monsters ever found out who she was, they would have strong leverage over the cause, over the rebellion. They would try to use her against the rebels that lived within the woods, hiding, moving, and fighting against the vampires that hunted them relentlessly. The vampires that had taken their world and twisted it into a cruel mockery of what it had once been.
At least that was what she had been told they’d done.
She did not remember a world without fear, and hunger, and hiding. She did not recall a world where food had been purchased in stores, and homes had been heated and cooled. She knew a world of woods and concealment and hunting and struggling for her meals. She knew a world that was brutally hot or deathly cold. She knew a world where there had never been a consistent roof over her head. A world where her father was the leader of the rebel movement, her mother was dead, and her two brothers were being relentlessly trained to take over her father’s position one day.
She had never experienced a life of safety and security, never experienced a life where she wasn’t fighting and running on a daily basis. But she had been told stories of the world before the vampires, and though she was certain that some of the tales had to be off, or wrong, she still thought that world sounded simply wonderful. As a child she had foolishly longed for that world, as an adult she had thrown aside childish dreams in favor of learning how to fight and how to hunt. In favor of learning how to survive.
In her world, love was not freely given, hugs were not exchanged, and the only praise she had ever received was for her far superior skills with a bow and arrow. However, though love was not freely given, she knew that it was there. Her brothers would want to risk everything to get her back; her father would want to do the same. But her father would also know that it could not be done. Her father could not risk the lives of so many, for one. Even if that one was her. It would kill him to lose her, but he would make the sacrifice, just as he had sacrificed so much in his life.
No, Arianna had no grand plans of rescue, no dreams that her brother William would charge recklessly in, yelling like a banshee, just as he charged so wildly into everything. She did not have these dreams because her father, and ever sensible Daniel, would never allow William to do so. In fact, they would probably have to tie him up because it would be the only way to keep him away from here.
It would be the only way to keep him alive.
A twinge of regret and pain filled her at the thought of her brother, her twin. Her other half. They had always been so close, inseparable since creation. He would not get over this, just as she never would have gotten over his loss, if their roles had been reversed.
She never should have allowed herself to be captured. But then, she hadn’t had a choice. The child…
Arianna’s gaze slid slowly to Mary Beckins. Mary stood proudly, her shoulders thrust back, her chin jutting out as she stared unblinkingly across the sea of heads before her. If it weren’t for the tears streaking silently down Mary’s dirt and soot smeared cheeks, Arianna would have thought her fearless. But even with those tears she still looked proud, defiant; unbreakable.
Seeming to sense Arianna’s stare, Mary’s eyes slid slowly toward her. It was Mary’s child, John, Arianna had saved. It was John’s place that she had taken in this cramped hell of nearly certain death and terror. Arianna had forfeited her life for young John’s, and she would do it again if she had the choice. She just wouldn’t have been so reckless about it. She wouldn’t have plunged carelessly in again, and she would have thought out a way to ensure that she and Mary were not ensnared also.
But, like her twin, she rarely thought out her actions and often charged thoughtlessly forward, heedless of the consequences. But these were by far the direst consequences she had ever faced. They would also be her last. Or so she hoped.
Mary held her gaze for a long moment, gratitude brimming in her wide, brown eyes. She briefly nodded her thanks, and managed a tremulous smile that Arianna returned.
The vampire’s did not know who Arianna was, who her father was, and she was certain that no one that knew her would tell them. The people had always respected and admired her father, but today, with her actions, they had also come to admire and respect her too. They would all die before they handed her over, even if handing her over would mean a pardon on their own lives. Even if it meant a chance at freedom for them.