Bite me

Chapter 5

~Hades~

Hades sat at his desk, papers piling higher than he could see, and not one had the information he needed; where the hell was she? He needed to find her. He should of known, really, that sending Verity down was a chance task. Incompetent bastards.

His pen ran circles around the corner of his notepad, leaving behind his mark of indifference for this part of his job.

If there was one bad part of his job, this was it. With the ruling of the undead, it became a particularly tedious job when feeding season came around. Surprisingly, vampires were very meticulous with rotes and charts when it came to who and when they got the feed.

He supposed he couldn't blame them, though. Unlike him, they didn't have the option to gather the strongest blood line to feed from at any time they pleased. They had the time they were given, with the people they were given, and they shut the hell up about it.

Not that he'd take the offer of the most well kept female vampire there was. He found it particularly betraying to lay himself upon someone of his own species.

And with the less than 1:7 ratio of woman to men in this new world, it was becoming harder by the day to serve his race.

Although he knew there were other options, he was reluctant. Humans had the better tasting blood, the kind that gives you a high to beat euphoria, but one that only lasts a day, two days tops. He knew there wasn't enough to go round at that rate.

But vampire blood, on the other hand; although not merely as satisfying, it stayed in your system for at least 9-10 weeks for the most part.

As he stared down at the papers in front of him, the words began to come together in a cluster of words and letters. He rubbed his calloused hands down the side of his face and massaged his temples, although he doubted it was anything to do with a headache.

He needed to feed. Desperately.

But being the stubborn idiot he was, he'd hold off as long as possible. He despised feeding more and more every season, although he knew it was inevitable. He could build up a resistance, perhaps, over time, he told himself.

Thiugh, even if he decided that te thrilling tale of starving was his way or the high way, the others, had not. And if he planned to keep control, he needed to stop thinking about the girl his searches were coming up short for, and the mission he has sent Verity on, and concentrate on his work.

For now, he'd try to down the bread and butter on the plate in front of him, without his body rejecting it.

Just as his pen touched the paper and a surprisingly encouraging speech had just made it's way through his mind, 3 wraps sounded from the door.

He knew who it was without answering- he could smell the slave from a mile off, but his hunger seemed to be distorting his senses.

Taking the plate of half eaten/regurgitated bread, Hades placed it under the desk,

Out of sight. "Come in." He called gruffly, slouching over his work with his back to the door.

He heard the it creak on its hinges, bringing a gust of cool air into the clammy room as well as the strong scent of human blood and the outdoors. He felt the muscles in his arms and jaw clench with the urge not to lunge at the untimely slave.

"Master." He could practically feel the unease coming off the man. He did that to some people, well everyone, to be exact. Even his own kind were terrified of him. "I'm sorry to interrupt-"

Hades waved his hand in the air. "Can I help you?"

"Oh... Yes, sire. My apologies. The lady of octaves sends offers of her services, my lord, and requests that of your neck, too, my lord."

Hades was quick to stand from his chair, get to his feet, and almost collide with the small frame of the unnamed slave. One of many, he thought.

"Tell The Lady of Octaves, that my mind is still where it was once at. I do not require her services nor will I ever. And if she ever dare ask for that of my blood again, I will have her personally escorted out of my lands."

A small nod came from the human, before he muttered an almost incoherent, "yes, sire, of course, sire." And turned to scurry out of the door.

Before he could get there, however, Hades stopped him by calling. "I did not ask of your departure. I have one last question." He took a seat back into the leather chair, his back tight and drawn. "Where is Verity?" Hades asked.

"Verity, my lord?" The slaves voice quivered.

"The lady with the purple hair. You know who I speak of."

"Yes, yes. Forgive me, my lord. Short term memory."

Hades ignored his last comment. He did not care to dither in the lives of his slaves. "So?" He asked, impatience sneaking into his already cold tone. Who was this fool? He thought.

"She is still in the cells. As you requested, a guard will escort her to you this afternoon." Hades checked his watch, to find in fact, it was only 11:42. Huh, he'd never been particularly bad with timing. Hunger, a small voice whispered in his taught brain.

"Alright, that is-" right on time, the door slammed on its hinges once more- giving Hades the momentary thought of how long it would last with this sort of sporadic treatment- and Verity rushed inside.

Her presence, much like the slaves, was painful for Hades. The smell of blood enticed him to an almost breaking point.

Her words, however, pulled him from it. "I've found her." She choked, her words a clash of heavy breathing. "I've found the girl."