Chapter 20

Katelina expected Jorick to make excuses, to deny what he was, even. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders, his brow furrowed. "Does it matter if I'm a vampire?"

Her mouth dropped open in disbelief. "Of course it matters! Do you think I would've come with you if I'd known? That I'd have been thinking..." She cut herself off before she could finish the sentence and say... what? Say that she'd been thinking he was attractive? Or that she'd been thinking that she needed him and had even come to trust him? Or that when she looked at him her heart pounded and her thoughts betrayed her? And for what? To be lied to! Everything was a lie. All of the things she'd allowed herself to believe, they'd all been pretty wrapping paper hiding the truth. He was a monster like the others. A beautiful monster who'd lied from the very beginning.

He crossed his arms over his chest and his eyes glittered dangerously, as if he were privy to the seething thoughts scrolling through her mind. "Well, it no longer matters, does it? You're here, and if you want to get out alive then you're going to have to trust me, Katelina. You have no choice."

She looked away and stared at her hands, the fingers clenched so tightly that the knuckles were white. She wanted to scream at him that she did have a choice. She wanted to attack him, scratch his face, destroy those beautiful features that had crept into her dreams, but she didn't have the strength. Instead she half lay on the floor, legs tucked beneath her, and cried bitterly. There was nothing else for her to do; at least not as long as the sun was down. Until dawn, she was trapped and he was all she had.

He relented. "I'm sorry Katelina. I should have told you - though you admit yourself, that you wouldn't have come with me if you'd known." He closed his eyes, as if choosing his words carefully. "You may not wish to believe, but not all of us are in league with Claudius. However, there are enough who are. They'd have hunted you down and taken you to him, and he would have broken you and then drained your blood, leaving you an empty shell. If you were lucky, he would let you die. If not, you'd have become one of his countless possessions, a trophy to look at on cold winter nights." He caught her chin and forced her to look at him. "Would that have been better?"

"No." Her eyes skipped away and then back again, narrowed in defiance. "But how do I know you're telling the truth? Maybe you're lying to me again."

"I have never lied to you," he released her chin and gently wiped away her tears with his soft, pale hand. His touch made her shiver in spite of herself.

"Yes, you did," she insisted though her shoulders sagged as she lost what fight was left in her. "You didn't tell me you were a vampire or that we were going to stay in a vampire mansion." She stared up at him, lost and frightened, her voice barely a whisper.

Jorick offered her a patient smile and continued to stroke her cheek with his thumb. "I didn't say that I wasn't one, or that they weren't. You didn't ask, and I didn't volunteer the information. Omission, fine, I'm guilty of that; but a lie?" He shook his head. "No, I did not lie."

Her thoughts became distracted at his touch, like they always did. This time she refused to allow it. She shook him off and pulled away. "No, you're not going to confuse me with this."

He smiled so that his glistening teeth showed and his eyes sparkled with secret amusement. "I wasn't trying to confuse you, but it's nice to know I have that effect." In one fluid motion he moved to sit next to her on the floor.

She flushed quickly and looked at her lap, unsure what she was feeling anymore. "So," she began uncertainly. "Oren, he's your- What?"

"Fledgling?" Jorick asked with some amusement. "Yes, he is. And don't ask me why. I often wonder that myself. At the time it seemed like the thing to do." He gave a half shrug. "He wished for it and I saw no reason to deny it."

She wasn't sure how much of this she wanted to discuss or acknowledge. "You were friends?"

"Neighbors. But back then neighbors were different than they are now, so I suppose you would consider us friends after a fashion. Truthfully, he was far too wrapped up in his wife and his children to see much beyond himself. I believe it was Jesslynn who actually figured out what I was and after that it was only a matter of time. Mortals have only two reactions, either horror or a longing to join us. Once I turned him, he of course changed her. Though he's the man of the family, she's the one in control."

"And she turned the children into..." she paused, searching for the right word. Somehow "vampire" seemed distasteful, as though it were something dirty, and her lips refused to pronounce it. "...into what they are?" she finished lamely.

"Yes, she did. The same night that Oren turned her, she turned the children, not thinking to the future and the hundreds - perhaps thousands - of years that would pass while neither child ever aged or fully matured. She wanted them to need her, to always depend upon her." He shook his head sorrowfully and sighed. "It was foolish at best and cruel at worst."

"Why would anyone want that?"

Jorick cocked his head to one side. "Children who cannot die and are forever frozen in time, completely controllable? Because she is overbearing, perhaps. Overbearing and broken. She and Oren buried two children in the time I knew them. The family cemetery holds others."

"Oh." Katelina's gaze shied from his face. She took a deep breath and then asked hesitantly, "What about the blonde girl?"

He frowned. "She was evidently weak. Her mind broke during the process. It can happen if they're flawed, or if the turning is botched. I don't know who she is, though. I haven't spent time with them as a group in... fifty years?" He paused, calculating. "No... Seventy, maybe?" He waved it away as unimportant. "I don't know; it's been a long time, anyway."

Katelina tried not to think about the astronomical numbers involved, or about the fangs that glittered when he smiled. How was she going to do this? How was she going to talk to him and think of him as she had now that she knew?

But Jorick was oblivious to her thoughts and continued speaking. "And before you ask, the redhead is Torina, Oren's sister. I told him to leave her mortal - she was dangerous enough as it was - but he didn't listen. He rarely does."

She stopped from giving her opinion and instead asked, "And the man on the couch last night? Who looked like Jesslynn?"

"Her brother Fabian," he answered with a touch of a scowl. "Another who could have stayed as he was."

"There was also a man dressed in weird clothes, with a beard."

"Baltheir, I believe his name is, though I'm not sure where he came from. This is what is known as a den. Oren's the master here, the oldest. He controls who can stay and who can't, who can join their coven. There may be a dozen or more of them here, depending on how many each one has turned." He shrugged casually, as though it were common knowledge. "And then, of course, a den may not hold all of a coven, or it may hold more than one. It all depends on the individual arrangements."

"Oh." She felt like a lost child rescued by an angel and taken to the valley of monsters.

"From now on, as long as we're here, stay in this room unless I come for you. If anyone else sends for you or comes for you, say no and stay here."

"If you'd mentioned they were vampires I would have stayed here!"

"I thought that my instructions would be sufficient." He replied sharply. He climbed to his feet and crossed to the window. He stared at the moon in silence while she pulled her knees to her chest and laid her head on them. After a moment he turned and spoke, his voice almost mournful. "You must listen to me, even if you don't like me, do you understand? It could mean the difference between life and death. Though I'd like to think you, at least, did not hate me."

"I don't think I hate you," she replied with a hint of bitterness. She wasn't sure that she wanted to concede the point to him; by all rights she should despise him.

"Well, then, that's something." He cleared his throat and took a step towards her. "Have you eaten?"

She nodded and snuffled her nose. Her thoughts drifted to how terrible she must look. Movies and books portrayed the softly sobbing female lead as something fragile and romantic, but in reality crying was all runny noses and puffy eyes. It was anything but romantic and beautiful.

"Good." He nodded firmly and added, "It might not hurt to eat again; I don't know how much blood she took from you." Anger flashed in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared and his voice was again controlled and even. "You must not look into her eyes, Katelina. She uses her will to weave a spell around you, to make you bend to her whims. In fact, to be safe avoid eye contact with all of them."

"Should I avoid eye contact with you, too?"

"No, I won't try to trick you. Have I yet?"

She leveled her gaze with his, demanding the truth. "Would I know if you had?"

He smiled, and again she tried to ignore what she was seeing; it was easier that way. "I don't know. Perhaps. Do you know she tricked you?"

"Sort of," she answered slowly. "I mean, I do because you both said it, but... I don't know." The thought that they could do that, and she might not even know, scared her.

"Well, I haven't, anyway," he assured her. "I'll go find you some food. Stay here."

He left before she could reply, shutting the door behind him.

She sat on the floor and stared at the door he'd just disappeared through. Slowly, she gathered the strength to stand and moved to the bed where she curled into a ball. She wanted to go home, to go anywhere but this nightmare house with its hellish nursery and horrifying occupants - somewhere where little boys didn't drink the blood of their nursemaids and nightmares didn't roam the hallways.