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I spin around, glaring at the intruder. Her hands fly up daintily in surrender as she chuckles at my blatant hostility.
“Who are you?”
The woman’s perfectly sculpted eyebrow rises to a point.
“Formalities aren’t important right now, little girl. We need to get you cleaned up right away. You’re expected in the throne room immediately.” She picks at her long, blood-red nails contentedly, belying her words. “And I’ll need to get someone in here to clean up this mess you’ve made.” She tsks.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I challenge, pushing back my shoulders in an effort to look menacing.
She barks a laugh, and that’s when I catch sight of the pointed canines, indicating she is one of them too.
“Who are you?” I repeat, narrowing my eyes.
“I’m Ka-tee-na.” The woman’s head bounces in time to her name being sounded out phonetically.
My brow furrows, signaling that her name means nothing to me.
“The Crown’s right-hand woman,” she explains, running her hand slowly down the side of her neck, pausing at her clavicle.Bizarre.
In fact, everything about this woman is wacky. Channeling Cruella de Vil, she’s sporting the black-and-white skunk coiffure, shaved on one side and chin length on the other. She’s dressed in black from head to toe, with the distinct exception of red patent leather pumps that match her nails. The heels add to her already tall frame. Upon closer inspection, her face looks familiar.
“Have we met?”
She throws her head back, mouth open.
“You have me confused with Ratilda.”
My brow rises.
“From the auction,” she offers. “She’s my sister. We look alike-ish.” She crinkles her nose.
“Ahh... yep, that’s it.”
“We might look similar, but appearance is where it starts and ends. She’s a royal bitch.”
I snort. “I’m to believe you’re any better?”
“Obviously,” she deadpans. “I don’t want anything to do with that dreadful auction.”
“For real?”
I eye her skeptically, not wanting to be naïve and fall victim to some game. She’s clearly a vamp, based on her elongated teeth and pale-as-death skin.I can’t trust her.
“It’s barbaric andIam no savage.” Her hand comes to her chest.
“Noted.”
I won’t believe anything she says. To survive, I need to remember that nobody here is a friend. Until the day she helps me escape, she’s an enemy.
“Anyway, no time to waste. You have somewhere to be.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” My words come out weak and pathetic, exhaustion and rising fear taking over.
My mind is invaded by all the possibilities that could await me in the throne room. Torture, shackles, blood drainage—each is as terrifying as the last.
“You will if you value your life.”
I cower at her words, realizing that the things my mind has conjured could quite possibly be on the horizon. Like I said, enemy. Everyone in this world of vampires and auctions is my enemy.
