Blood Rebel [COMPLETED]

Chapter Two - An Unexpected Turn of Events

Selene's ears were ringing, making the silence seem loud. The crescendo of the music as the prisoners were bled and began to die on stage always deafened her. She tugged the fake eyelashes from the thin skin of her eyelids, stretching and releasing them, and tossed the spidery strings into the bin.

"You did well tonight," he said, as he leant against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest. She wasn't surprised at Hector's intrusion because he so frequently appeared from nowhere. He had a tendency to arrive at the strangest moments, hovering at her door, and she never knew exactly when he was coming. He made no sound when he moved. It wasn't that he was trying to creep up on her; he just couldn't help it.

"Thank you." She began to wipe the blood from her face with a tissue. The prisoner had been a real bleeder tonight: a mess. She was aware of Hector watching her as she smeared the blood over her pale skin in an attempt to clean it off. She glanced up and his gaze slid from her to the floor.

"It's the blood," he said, as though that were an acceptable explanation.

"I know," she said, throwing the reddened tissue into the bin.

Hector Stanley was her owner, and also one of the most powerful Vampires in the city. He owned Stanley Hall, and gave it his name, egotist that he was. He owned almost all the theatres in London, and controlled all the Bleedings that happened throughout the city. But he only ever came to see Selene's.

Almost a year ago Selene had moved from the theatre, where she shared a dormitory with the other dancers, into his home, as was the custom when a human turned 17. This final year of childhood had to be spent under the owner's roof, after which the the human would be 'initiated' into the adult world, a process known as 'The Offering', which was supposed to help the human understand the true implications of being a Vampire's slave.

Hector moved towards her and laid a hand on her shoulder. A shiver ran down her spine and she flinched; at her movement his grip tightened, his thumb pressing into the muscle of her shoulder.

He slid his hands round to the back of her neck, caressing her as he did so. He was warm, as though the fires of hell burnt beneath his skin. He unclasped the heavy gold necklace that hung round her neck and put it in his pocket. Then he held out his hand, palm upwards, cupped: ready to receive.

Selene knew what he wanted, and she didn't mind. She found his presence comforting, despite the innate fear of him that had been instilled in her as she grew up: the contradiction was unsettling and the duality of their relationship perplexed her. Hector managed to maintain a cool distance, whilst also paying her more attention than he paid to any of his other girls.

She took out her earrings and slid the bangles from her wrists. She felt light, and relieved to be rid of the gold. She placed it all in his outstretched hand, watching the tension of tendons and muscles in his upturned wrist. His fingers closed around the pile of jewels, and he nodded his thanks as he slipped them into his pocket.

He urged her to stand, and hold out her hands. He checked her palms, her nails, her arms. He pinched her chin and looked at her face, turning it from side to side. It was still spattered and swept with streaks of blood, and she noticed his nostrils flare and his eyes flash with lust. She watched the struggle to repress it ripple across his features, and wondered whether his desire was for her, or just for the blood.

He nodded once more before he released her, and turned and left the room.

As she watched him leave she allowed her shoulders to slump and relax. He was kind to her, and he didn't have to be. There would be no reprimand if he hurt or abused her; Vampires could do whatever they wanted to their slaves. But the one thing he couldn't do was sleep with her; at least not until she turned eighteen. She closed her eyes at the thought, and felt her heart stutter and slow as she exhaled heavily.