Help Me Breathe

Chapter 1

It is a rare moment when I don't fear for my life. Lovely, wonderful, but rare.

My name is Jane. I'm a human. I guess. Being a part of humanity requires being part of the human cosmos, doesn't it? I suppose I'm not human, then. I don't live with other humans. Just the vampires.

When I was twelve, my parents died in a violent car crash. I went to live with Rider, my mysterious appointed guardian. He was a vampire who had, when my parents were young and idiotic rather than merely foolish, made them a deal. Either they die, or they give him their first-born daughter. Which, whoopdidoo, happens to be me. My parents had, young and stupid as they were, agreed, not even thinking about children, merely wanting to survive. Then, three years later, I was born. My mother had made an effort to hide me, but my father just seemed to give up. I was told from an early age, inspiring a dogged enjoyment in death and darkness. I loved the elegant feel of black fingerless gloves, slinking up to my elbows. I loved the black, glossy polish on my nails. I adored how the servants at my parent's home called me Lady or Mistress. I loved the black Victorian ball gowns. In short, I loved the dark....

Until Rider came for me... That changed everything...

Rider was, and still is, cold and domineering and brutally attractive. He made me a pet, paraded me before his friends and made a laughingstock out of me. I can still remember the titters hid behind lacy fans, the distant, amused eyes boring into me as I slunk past them in my ragged cotton clothes. I remember going insane at one point, screaming and ranting and yanking my hair out in somewhat thick strands , crying about the cold, the burning cold. I remember Rider and Vanessa, his skinny mate, laughing and tossing plates at me. Then, when my mental imbalance stopped amusing them, Rider and Vanessa beat me back into sanity. I suppose that I'm greatful.

And when Rider was thirsty but too lazy to go out, he would hook his finger at me and with his icy, diamond-toothed smile.

In case you were wondering, no, vampires do not have fangs. I wish they did. Then there would have been a quick pricking sensation before the frustrated kick and Be gone, you worthless wretch. Instead I got the burning, then the tearing, then the screaming. My skin is littered with mocking nips and angry bites. I am, as Vanessa put it, a masterpiece.

So when Vanessa marched into my closet room and told me that Rider had lost a bet, my heart almost leapt out of my chest. By some stroke of intuition, I knew that I was being taken away, and that was all that mattered. Vanessa leaned forward instinctively, dragged by the pull of my thudding heart. As I recoiled into myself, Rider's cold hand appeared on Vanessa's chalky arm, restraining.

"No more darling" he said to her as he glared at me.

"But.."

"Rider, Vanessa," a smooth voice inserted. And what a wonderful, voice it was.

The vampire was beautiful, even more so than Rider or any of his friends. His skin was a pale white, not sallow or chalky. His voice was low and made me think of darkness....Not the unforgivable darkness I associated with Rider, but a safe darkness, found beneath a favorite quilt. His eyes were completely different, however. They were an unsettling shade of burgundy. They flickered quickly between my face and the faces of my keepers.

"This is Jane," he said.

"Yes,Take her if you want her." Rider's voice was surly, spiteful with defeat.

"She'll only cause you trouble, Benedikt," Vanessa said in a wheedling voice. "You'd save a lot of trouble by leaving her."

Benedikt stared at me with his red eyes. "She's been with you for five years? Making her seventeen."