DEAD SEED (AKA "Vampires Don't Exist")

SEVENTEEN: Time Goes On

Aimeric never said anything else to her about what he was planning. Not for a long time. He didn't bring it up and she didn't ask. She could only imagine how terrible it was and she was foolishly hoping he would forget.

The days and nights passed quickly. Aralyn behaved herself; she had learned to keep her mouth shut — around Aimeric anyway. Sometimes when he was away and Morgan was around, she couldn't always hold back her snark.

Aralyn had somewhat adjusted to the vampires' schedule. She stayed up most of the night and slept long into the late morning and early afternoon. While they went out and hunted, she had time to herself. She spent some of it out in the garden, until she couldn't stand the cold seeping into her bones.

Aimeric had also kept his promise to her; he had his human servant retrieve everything on Aralyn's list. She still hadn't met this servant. She wondered where he or she lived. Did they live somewhere in the mansion and just keep to themself or did they live close by and just drive over whenever Aimeric needed them?

When Aralyn wasn't in the garden, she was usually in the bedroom listening to music and reading books or sketching and drawing. She was getting used to her life here. She didn't like it, but at least things were becoming routine.

Aimeric hadn't had any reason to take her to the dungeon. She barely remembered the prisoners were down there now, though she did still hear their screams at times. When those sounds floated up from the floors below, she put on her headphones to drown them out.

She wasn't happy, but she was content. She had her routines and had figured out how to make the best of her situation.

One day, she was looking at herself in the mirror after a bath. It was late afternoon. Aimeric was still asleep in the bed. She stared at herself in the full length mirror, turning so she could see the scar on her back. A large "W" was there just above her buttocks. The initial of Aimeric's family name he had told her.

A few days after Claire's return, Aimeric had licked the wound, telling Aralyn she had suffered enough. He was tired of seeing her wince and move so slowly, so he used his saliva to help heal her faster. Now it was just a scar. It still sent pain through her back every now and then, especially when the weather was about to change, but nowhere nearly as bad as it had been.

Aralyn slipped on a pair of leggings, a long wool skirt, and a sweater before taking a warm, fur-lined cloak from the hooks on the wall. She gave Aimeric a glance before she left the room. He hadn't moved. He almost looked like a human when he was sleeping.

As she went down the steps, she slipped the cloak on over her shoulders, pulling the hood over her head. She put on a pair of snow boots and then went out the back door from the kitchen.

This was her favorite time of day. She was alone; the rest of the house was still sleeping since the sun was still out. Aimeric didn't wake every time she did now, knowing her routine and knowing she would no longer try and escape. He finally trusted her enough to let her go on her own when he wasn't ready to wake yet.

Her boots crunched through freshly fallen snow. The sky was overcast. Flurries still fell. It must have been December now or close to it. She wasn't sure how long she had been here and it's not like the vampires kept track of the dates.

Aralyn took a bag of bird seed from behind one of the flowerpots and wandered out to the garden. The crows were already waiting for her. They had learned she would come out around this time each day and throw them food. She tossed the bird seed down and watched as her friends ate.

One of them finished pecking at the ground and then perched on the bench beside her. This one always did this, as if to thank her.

"Hello Harry," Aralyn said. She had named the bird after several times of him sitting next to her. Perhaps one day he would even let her pet him. She reached out a hand. He hopped away to the edge of the bench. Not yet apparently.

She sat with the birds for several minutes until a cold wind came up and numbed her cheeks.

When she went inside, she fixed herself something to eat and made a hot pot of coffee to help with the chill. The human servant had even stocked the fridge with her favorite creamer. She drank her coffee and ate her food, enjoying the silence of the sleeping house. It wouldn't be this way soon. The sun would begin to set in only an hour or so.

After she ate, she wandered through the mansion, checking on its progress. Aimeric had begun remodeling the home. Some of the walls had been removed and were being replaced with fresh boards and drywall. Paint and wallpaper were being stripped and redone. Leaks were being fixed. Old, dirty carpet had been torn up and the floors were being cleaned and polished.

She wondered why he suddenly cared how the mansion looked after years of neglect. Just because of what they had talked about that night that seemed so long ago? Perhaps he really did want her to be comfortable here. Not that it made up for all the terrible things he had done, but at least she would no longer have to live in filth.

Aimeric was different from when she had first come here. His outbursts weren't as frequent. His threats had decreased. Perhaps only because she was obedient now. He had molded her into what he wanted her to be: submissive and one that turned a blind eye and put on her headphones when the prisoners began to scream.

At least Claire didn't partake in the torture. She didn't seem to enjoy it, just as she had said. Perhaps not all vampires were murderous psychos. Maybe that meant Aralyn wouldn't have to be either, when her time came....

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