Page 33 of Trapped By the Blood Ruby

“But… This is a lot of stuff.”

“And I could have it finished in ten seconds if I felt like moving quickly.”

“Oh…” A tiny laugh bubbled up. “I guess you vampires have an eternity ahead of you.” He gave me a look that confirmed this. Huh. I’d never considered what that might be like. Choosing to work to escape boredom.

“How often do you get food delivered?” I asked, my eyes lingering over the cuts of meat, tightly wrapped, and the vegetables he’d piled in a heap. He hesitated, eyes narrowing in my direction. “I just didn’t think vampires ate all that much. There’s a mountain here.”

“Master Laurent enjoys a few meals per week, sometimes demands them when he wishes to gather his family. Other times he eats when I make his favorites. But with you here, I decided to increase the delivery to every three days.”

Every three days. I filed the information away, keeping my face bland. “You did this for me?”

Vittorio lifted a shoulder, unboxing cream cheese, butter, and other cold items. He began shuffling around the kitchen, placing things in the industrial size refrigerator and pantry. I was silent a moment, taking it as a good sign that he hadn’t asked me if I needed anything more. His usual way of getting rid of me.

“How do you decide what to cook?”

Since my arrival, he’d cooked me three meals a day, keeping me plied with snacks in between. The batch of cinnamon rolls was long gone, but when he brought me blueberry waffles this morning, I’d decided that was almost as good.

“I have an app,” he said, not turning from where he shuffled things around.

I burst into laughter. “An app?”

He stood, turning to me, hands on his hips. His exasperated scowl was definitely feigned. “Yes, Miss Shaw. An app. Many recipes I remember, but I like to keep them all written down.”

I’d seen Laurent’s laptop. I’d seen Zola scrolling on her phone. I’d seen the televisions. Even some of the gaming systems in the activities room. It just felt…strange.

“I always pictured vampires as these old fashioned creatures,” I admitted, calming my laugher. “Living in dungeons, grumbling about technology killing our planet, lamenting over the good ole days. This just isn’t what I expected.”

“I see.” He didn’t sound amused.

“Everyone here keeps up with the times, you go out in sunlight, you don’t walk around with bloodstains on your clothing.” Vittorio’s expression morphed, probably over the thought of spilling anything on his pristine attire. “I suppose I just never had a proper source to frame an opinion, is all.”

“Right.” He hesitated, and then, “Have you need of anything else, Miss Shaw?”

I pulled my lips between my teeth. “You know, you do that whenever you’re eager to be rid of me?”

His mouth twitched, but he merely turned back to the pantry.

“Okay, fine. I’ll see you later,” I said, backing from the kitchen. “Thanks again for the basket,” I called over my shoulder as I disappeared.

I wandered around the manor, passing through rooms, alone with my thoughts. I stepped into the drawing room—where I’d gravitated several times already—and went to stand beside the grand piano. I ran my hand along the sleek varnished wood. A throat cleared⁠—

I whirled around. A vampire stood in the doorway. He had dark hair and brown skin. He looked Middle Eastern, perhaps? And he was handsome like the rest of them, with sharp, distinct features. When I looked closer, though, I noticed the shadows beneath his eyes, the haunted expression in his gaze.

“Forgive me, I did not mean to disturb you.” His voice was soft and slightly accented. I liked it immediately. Liked the way it calmed me, putting me at ease.

“You didn’t—disturb me, I mean. I was just…admiring the piano.”

“Yes, a beautiful piece, is it not?” I offered him a nod. “Do you play?”

“Uhm.” I hesitated. Then shrugged. It wasn’t really an answer, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to give one. I’d been avoiding the piano since seeing it my first morning here.

“I am Hassan,” he said, remaining in the doorway. Hassan. Ohhh. He must have noticed the subtle widening of my eyes, the way I glanced over his body, searching for hidden injuries. “I take it you’ve heard of me.”

“Uhm.” My face flushed. “Yes. Are you feeling better?”

“My body is whole.”

I understood his meaning immediately. Vittorio had confirmed that vampires possessed healing abilities. I pictured Hassan, bloodied to a pulp, lying in the entry hall, screaming. What did it take to weaken a vampire so brutally?