Beauty in Red | NaNoWriMo 2021

Chapter Three: Marie

Father didn't ask about the blood on my clothes, nor the scratches on my neck. Our interaction only consisted of myself handing over a coin, and climbing into the carriage. He already knew our destination, of course, but we had to play the part if the taxi was to remain inconspicuous.

Inside the carriage, with the shades drawn on the windows, I quickly changed out of my ruined clothing and into the dress I'd worn out of the manor: a simple forest green thing that had no complicated laces or buttons, one that I could easily slip in and out of without requiring the help of one of the house servants.

You only need to learn from that mistake once.

The rest of the ride was uneventful, save for the several minutes I spent replaying the conversation with the Elite, the feeling of his gloved hand brushing the skin of my throat. It had been strange, to feel such a gentle touch from a being easily capable of ripping my throat out if he had wished. And his promise to make the Second who hurt me pay with his blood?

I shivered, closing my eyes as I told myself to get a grip. Though the sentiment had made my heart squeeze strangely in my chest, I knew a proper lady would not feel so...flattered. And that was what I was feeling. I felt as though he were avenging me, somehow, and that was inappropriate beyond words.

Needless to say, I wouldn't be telling father about him. Regardless of the fact that I had faced an Elite and not attempted to kill him immediately, I would also need to explain the rest of what happened, of the men trying to kidnap me. How they'd recognized me, and had evidently been searching for me as well. Father would never assign me a mission again, and I couldn't allow that to happen.

After nearly half an hour, we finally arrived at Blanchet Manor. Father pulled the carriage into the driveway and hopped down. I knew from past experience he had changed from his simple driving suit into a more respectable jacket, and had stowed the wide brimmed hat he wore in the box beneath the driver's seat. His black hair, peppered with grey as he neared his fifties, would be smoothed back in its typical style.

He opened the door holding out his hand to assist me out of the carriage. I accepted, climbing down the step.

Every time we left and returned from a trip to the lower city, it was late enough that only my father's most trusted guards and servants were on duty. None of them knew what we did the evenings we disappeared, but they were all paid well enough to keep quiet about what they saw. They also all had reasons to be loyal to Samuel Blanchet, and would risk losing important or highly valuable things if they ever crossed him.

Father guided me around the carriage, towards the house. One of his servants was already hopping into the driver's seat of the carriage, guiding the horses around the other side of the driveway. He would park at the stables, where it would sit until morning, when one of the members of the order would come collect it and return it to the hidden property.

"How did things go tonight?" Father asked as he guided me up the stairs, toward the front door. There were seventeen stairs in total, with a cemented planter box dividing them down the center. Mother had ordered red petunias be planted in them several years ago, and the flowers had completely overtaken the box, overflowing onto the stairs. They were beautiful in the spring, when the flowers were in full bloom, and I often found mother outside, sitting on the steps beside her beloved petunias, reading the scriptures gifted to her by one of the priests who often visited our home.

It was the furthest mother would ever travel out of the house, and every time I found her outside I felt a surge of relief. It meant that day would be a good one, even if only for a little while.

"The Second gave me some trouble," I said, deciding in that moment to attribute any injuries received to the vampire I'd killed tonight. I gestured to the scratches on my neck, feeling a ping of unease at not being entirely truthful to my father. I rarely ever lied to my parents, but if doing so meant my father would not stop sending me out on hunts, then it was a necessary evil. "But it died, in the end."

"And its body?" he asked.

The Second I'd fought had been near death already, its stomach caving in from a lack of blood. It had been a woman once, but when I found it, the human she'd once been was entirely gone from the monster I destroyed.

My duty within the order was one most of the others would probably sneer at, claiming it was the "easy work" to dispose of the Seconds who had gone without feeding for too long. What they didn't know was how vicious a hungry vampire could be.

While the vampires in Emery, and all throughout Freidmont, were starving, all of the vampires the other order members were sent after were the ones who were still in control, ones who had just been freshly turned or hadn't been in Freidmont for very long.

Hungry Seconds grew delusional. They often began killing without restraint, regardless of the toxic plants the humans were ingesting. The toxins in the bloodstream of the humans led to hallucinations and a loss of humanity in the Seconds, turning them into true monsters.

The one I'd killed tonight allegedly murdered her own son, as well as two neighborhood dogs in her bloodlust. She had put up a fight for sure, but my training had been specific to killing vampires lost to hunger.

It didn't hurt that it seemed I'd been born with a natural talent for killing.

"Burned," I answered. "I managed to lure it away so there were no witnesses, but that took some time."

Father nodded, accepting this. "I am calling a meeting of the order tomorrow afternoon. I assume you will be attending?"

I grinned. Father knew me too well. "You're granting me permission this time?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. We reached the top of the stairs, and he pulled the door to the house open. "If I didn't, you would be there regardless, wouldn't you?"

Father had tried his best to keep me out of his meetings. He was worried the men of the order would notice me, and ask too many questions. My place in the order was a secret only he and I knew about, and though I understood the reasons why (it was improper for a girl to do the things I did), I had to remind myself often not to take offense to the secrecy. I was the best damn fighter and hunter of the group, but my talents and victories over the last five years would always go unnoticed and unappreciated.

It was hard not to be bitter about that fact, but so long as I was able to continue hunting the monsters that plagued our world, I would deal with it.

"I would," I conceded. We stepped into the house, and kept our voices low as we moved from the foyer, up the grand staircase, towards my bedroom. "No one will know I am there. I shall be quiet as a mouse."

"I wish you wouldn't risk so much. If any of the other men saw you, they may begin to question whether I am properly suited to lead them."

I bit back my retort that just because he had allowed a woman in the order, did not make him appear weak or like a less capable leader. I was more forward-thinking than the rest of the world, it seemed, but what I thought or believed did not matter.

"I understand," I answered, just as he wanted. I had not spent my entire life learning to balance being a sweet, docile creature, acceptable in society's eyes, with the trained lethal vampire killer I was by night, for no reason. I could be whatever the world needed me to be, and unfortunately, most of the time I had to be the pretty Lady Marie Blanchet, daughter of Duke and Duchess Samuel and Vera Blanchet.

I much preferred my other role, but what I wanted didn't matter. All my life, I'd trained to become whatever my parents wished me to be.

"Good."

We reached the doors to my room, and father pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Get some sleep. The meeting is at noon."

I nodded. "Yes, father."

"Goodnight, Marie." He stepped away, turning and walking down the hall.

My heart squeezed in my chest as I watched him go. He never acknowledged the work I did for him, never gave me praise. I knew he was proud of me, but just once, I wished he would say it.

Sighing, I turned and slipped silently into my bedroom, not allowing the bitterness to follow me inside.