Page 27 of Trapped By the Blood Ruby

“Well, since you ask…” A mischievous grin overtook my lips. “How are you with pastries and such?”

He tutted. “That you should even ask⁠—“

“I would kill for a cinnamon roll,” I admitted. “The gooey kind, you know? With cream cheese frosting?” His mouth twitched. “Not, like, immediately. But maybe when you’ve got nothing better to do and feel like baking something?”

“Duly noted, Miss Shaw. Anything else?”

“No. Thank you, Vittorio.” The brief interaction had lifted my spirits somehow. Every small kindness felt precious in this place.

“My pleasure. Good night.” If I wasn’t mistaken, his voice had somewhat softened. That made a small smile spread across my lips.

I walked back through the manor, satiated and exhausted. When I returned to my room, it wasn’t quite eight p.m. My eyes were already heavy. I managed to make it to the bathroom, forgoing a shower—I wasn’t sure about my bandage—before collapsing into bed. All I could do was take a couple more painkillers before my eyes closed for good, whisking me into a deep sleep.

8

Iwas wrenched awake by the sound of screaming. I shot up in bed, momentarily disoriented. The only light was a faint trickle of moonlight from the windows. I blinked, trying to gather myself. Vampires. I was in a vampire manor.

Pulled, as if in a trance, I staggered from beneath the covers to the door, pulling it open. The screams continued, not as loud as they’d felt when I’d first awoken. Still enough to make my stomach churn. To make the hairs on my arms lift.

I hesitated at the end of the hallway. It was probably safer to remain in my room with the door locked. But I couldn’t help myself as I rushed through the manor.

I descended to the lower levels, emerging onto the landing that overlooked the entry. It was a chaotic scene. Bodies blurred like bees in a hive, fussing over a writhing mass on the tile floor. A person. I swallowed down bile. Whoever it was, they were near unrecognizable, more pulp than anything, writhing and screaming—the kind that couldn’t be ignored, that begged for relief.

Laurent was there, calling orders. He froze, then whirled in my direction. “Miss Shaw.”

I remained unmoving, caught up in his regard. His expression hardened. “You shouldn’t be out of bed. Return to your room.”

I caught sight of Vittorio rushing through the frenzy with a stack of bandages. And Marco, stepping in to hold the thrashing figure still. Others were jumping in to offer their assistance.

“I… Can I help?” I took a step forward.

“You are nothing but a liability, Miss Shaw. Zola! Remove her from my sight.”

I flinched. It would have hurt less if he’d slapped me.

Zola materialized beside me, a hand on my elbow. “Come, darling. It is better if you do not see this.”

She guided me back down the hallway and up another set of stairs. The screams grew fainter.

“What… What was that?”

“We found Hassan.”

“Hassan?”

“He went missing a few weeks ago. He’s lucky to be alive, though, he has suffered a great deal.”

“The blood dealer?”

“Dead. But the dealer’s not responsible for this. He was just a middleman.”

She probably wouldn’t be telling me this if she thought I was a threat.

“What happened to him? Hassan?”

“Tortured, drained, mutilated.” A shiver raced through me. “Do not let it trouble you, darling. Such knowledge doesn’t make for restful sleep, hmm?”

We stopped outside my door.