Chapter Eight: Thirst

River Black

River held the candelabra in her hand, holding it aloft, looking around the huge room. It was so big, it dwarfed her living room back at her parents’ house. Everything was draped in white cloth and for a moment, she felt lost in that room too. It had no windwos and seemed to be below ground, in a basement level, though she wasn’t entirely sure. It had been a disorientating walk in the dark mansion. River hoped it was nicer during the day. Less confusing. In truth, she hoped that when she woke up, she’d be inside her tent, safe and sound and all this would be a strange dream.

Finally, she found the bed. It too, like the room, was a huge, down stuffed four-poster monstrosity. It looked like the bed a queen would sleep in. It smelled regrettably musty, but it was soft and dry and better than any other option she had.

She set the candles on a shrouded dresser and tugged off her dirty, wet socks. Her jeans were torn and filthy too. That left just her underthings and her t shirt. River didn’t feel wholly comfortable -just- wearing that to bed, but she didn’t want to be a bad guest either. She didn’t want to make the bed dirty.

Sliding under the musty blankets after shaking most of the dust off, she lay in the dark and quiet, watching the shadows from the candlelight play on the walls. Even the mirrors and paintings were covered. It looked like a room of ghosts.

She felt pity for Tamsin. Was he alone in this great, big house? He’d mentioned a brother, but didn’t say said brother lived there. It seemed to be just him. How lonely, she thought. It was like she’d stumbled into a sad fairy tale complete with an evil queen.

River felt so overwhelmed. Her parents would be worried sick. They’d look for her. Missing posters would go up. Search and rescue. They’d only find her shoe and her cell phone. Otherwise she’d be gone without a trace.

She couldn’t help but think of all the missing persons’ stories she’d heard where it seemed the person had just been swallowed up by the earth, never to be seen again. Had this, or something similar, happened to them too? It chilled her, and she pulled the blankets up under her chin. The room had a fireplace big enough to walk in but it didn’t have any wood, and she didn’t have anything other than the candles to light it besides. Besides, while chilly, it wasn’t dangerously cold.

It took far less time to fall asleep than she thought it would. The moment she was on the soft, down mattress her eyes grew heavy. It had been a really long night and time seemed strange here besides. Maybe it had been a full day. River couldn’t be sure. Before she knew it, she fell asleep and never heard the door to her room creak open.

#

Aelnith Eventide

He stood over her bed and watched her sleep, her dark hair across her cheek, her brow pinched. It wasn’t a peaceful sleep. River whimpered and turned. When she moved, he could smell her perfume, her sweat. Her blood.

Carefully, he slid the blanket down her body a little, just to get a better look at her up close. To see if she was worth risking House Eventide as Tamsin had invariably done. He sucked a breath in between his teeth as his knuckles brushed against her collar bone. Her skin was soft, like silk. And so warm.

He knew her blood would be sweeter than the finest wine. Closing his eyes, he could almost taste it on his tongue. It sent a shudder through him.

The curse was far more insidious than just dooming him to being a monster for the rest of eternity. It came with prophecy as well. He was doomed to love a woman he would murder. And that would drive him mad. He’d lose his mind and become a revenant forever, a ghoul with no thought or control over himself. Tamsin would only learn to control the beast inside him if he sought a mate. The prophecy never said it would be the -same- woman for them both. But Aelnith wouldn’t put it past Carmun. She was as clever as she was beautiful.

This, he decided, standing over the girl, wasn’t love. It was lust. For her body. For her blood. He shouldn’t linger lest he be too tempted. Though his brother had betrayed him, betrayed their house, he wouldn’t act just yet. He wanted to give Tamsin a chance to explain himself. It wasn’t prudent to act without all the facts.

For a brief moment, he wanted River to wake. And see him, his skin unnaturally pale, like the marble of the floor, his impressive height and muscular build, his pale eyes and dark auburn spill of hair. He knew that his dark gifts would weave around her, and she’d willingly give herself, both body and blood, to him.

Forcibly, he turned away from the sleeping girl. Not yet, he warned himself. Besides, River was a tithe and belonged to the Dain. No sense getting attached in any fashion. The tithe was a promise between this world and the world of the humans and the Witch Queen. It wasn’t their promise to break, not without dire consequences and House Eventide could not afford another war with Carmun. They’d already lost so much.

Dawn approached. He could feel it weaken him. Aelnith had let the girl distract him and now he doubted he could make it back to the family crypt before it rose. The moment the sun’s rays touched the sky and pinked the horizon, he would collapse, immobile, frozen in a dreamless sleep until it set again. Vulnerable.

He knew better than to panic. There were other, empty rooms none ventured into. He was sure he had enough time to make it to those.

But just as he was about to leave to find a safe place to slumber, he heard River stir and gasp. He looked over his shoulder to see her sitting up, eyes bleary from sleep.

“Who are you?” she asked, voice tinged with alarm. He could -hear- her pulse accelerate. Taste her fear.

He drew in a slow, steadying breath. “Aelnith Eventide. I came to see the face of the doom of my house.”

She frowned, clearly confused. “Doom?”

“Yes. Tamsin’s little escapade won’t go unpunished. And you will still die.” He said it coldly because he had to be. He couldn’t warm towards her. She was his brother’s prize and the property of the Dain.

Aelnith knew he should leave, but something about her held him in place, turned his limbs to stone more effectively than the rays of the sun. He turned and faced her, glowering down at her, knowing how otherwordly and terrifying he must look. He hungered for her so profoundly, he knew his eyes must be tinged red.

River shrank back against the pillows, clutching the blanket under her chin. “I’m sorry...I still don’t know what’s happening.”

He smirked, clicking his tongue at her. “Your innocence is irrelevant. It won’t change the outcome. Nor will begging or tears...though I find both quite sweet.”

Aelnith watched the blood drain from her face, her eyes widen. He could see the pulse point in her neck jump. A wave of weakness came over him so powerful it nearly drove him to his knees.

The sun, he thought with actual panic. He’d lingered too long, become distracted, ensnared by the temptation of her blood and beauty. He groaned and did sink to his knees.

Dimly, he heard her ask him what was wrong. He could just barely feel the press of her soft fingers against his shoulders as the world was snuffed out and all fell to blackness.