Claiming the Vampire Slayer

Chapter Six: Vampire Dinner

I gape at the luxury around me.

I mean, I knew Marcellus owned a villa since he mentioned it at some point during our brief conversations, but it's not like I really saw much of it creeping in the catacombs. Those few moments when I first woke up in that white room are only a hint of memory, too.

I didn't understand the full scope and breadth of this place until now.

Marcellus's long strides eat up the distance. I wonder if he'd let me fall behind, and slow my pace.

He turns and glares at me, the reproach obvious.

This is the first time I've been allowed out of the cell. His stare is telling me not to push my luck.

Two men and a woman walk toward us. I know from their scent that they're human. They dip their heads toward Marcellus, then me.

I stare after them, mouth hanging open slightly. He did say there were humans here, but I didn't actually believe him.

Also, I can smell humans? That's so weird. Like, if someone asked, I could tell them what the woman ate for breakfast. The smell is so strong, it's almost overwhelming.

The burning ache in the back of my throat starts up again.

I try to ignore it by turning an accusation at Marcellus to distract myself. "Who are they?"

He mentioned staff before, but I don't like the way they bow to him. If he says they're dinner, then so help me, I might kill him with my bare hands.

I wonder if I could, now that I'm a vampire? There must be some perks to my new existence, else I might as well stake myself in the heart and be done with it.

"Why do you have so many humans here, anyway?" I further demand.

He laughs in my face. "Why wouldn't I? It takes many hands to keep a place this size going," he says, motioning at the villa around us.

Okay. Not what I was expecting, but it's true, I suppose.

I do my best to sort the people I'm seeing into categories. Who will most likely rat me out to Marcellus when I try to escape?

Based on their subservience, all of them.

Great.

I narrow my eyes. Can I get him to tell me how many servants he has without seeming suspicious? "They all live here?"

"Yes." He straightens his suit jacket. "And no, I don't eat them."

I can feel his urge to smirk again, the insufferable bastard.

My brown curls bob around my face, and I push them away with the back of my hand.

"Victoria, you must understand," he continues. "I am centuries old. This is how I have always lived. They must be around to tend to this place properly."

His voice is calm, controlled, and... patronizing.

I want to tear out his throat.

Sheesh. These mood swings are fierce. First I want to sleep with the guy, and now I'd rather rip out his heart.

Some things will never make sense.

"You can't just force people to live here and work for you," I try to probe. "There are rules, laws."

I flap my hands, trying to organize my thoughts. "The world has changed."

He shrugs carelessly. "There are always rules and laws. Some I obey, others I ignore—but my servants are always well compensated for their time."