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“You good?” Bash grates. “I’m not letting you go if you’re going to beat the poor sap again.”
“I’m fine,” I snap, finally jerking out of his hold.
I stare at the heap of flesh at my feet. The vampire doesn’t even twitch. He’s not dead, but he’s knocked out cold.
“Cross,” I yell out to the guard watching block five. Where had he been while all this was going down? “Y-yes sir?” Cross simpers from the chair against the wall. “Secure this beast and take away any comfort he has. He’ll need to show respect before he gets it back.”
“Is that necessary, considering?” Bash motions toward the supine vampire. “I’d say you showed him.”
I whirl around on my right hand, standing to my full height so we’re eye to eye.
“Are you questioning me, Sebastian?” My words are low and threatening.
He releases a humorless laugh. “I’m pointing out the man’s down. Who knows what damage you’ve done.”
I growl, taking one step closer so that we’re toe to toe. “Whatever damage was done came from the actions of that creature,” I snarl, pointing my finger at the vampire. “Things are moving too damn slow around here, because I’ve allowed everyone to grow soft. We don’t have time for that anymore, Bash. Things need to go back to the way they were.”
He nods, knowing I’m right. Prior to the auction and Marina entering my life, the whole process of rehabilitating a single vampire took roughly three to five days to get them to the phase of control and two weeks tops for the entire transition. Now it’s taking longer than two weeks to get control. Far too long.
“I see your point. Things do need to change around here.”
It’s my turn to nod.
“Cross,” I bite out.
“Yes, sir,” says the harried vampire who’s clearly not suited for the position of guard.
Cross is young and easily stressed in my presence. He’s a good kid, but that’s what he is. In order to control a new bite, you must convey authority. There’s none of that going on here in block five.
“You’re no longer needed at this post. I’ll find you something else to do around here.”
“B-but, sir—”
“Bash, please get with Anderson and make the change.”
With that, I stalk away from block five and the unconscious vampire. Marina wouldn’t know what to do with this side of me. My true side. In order to rule vampires, I must be cruel at times. Our race is made up of traitorous beings, and to instill fear is to instill trust. It’s an ass-backward philosophy, but true for our kind nonetheless.
I ponder my next move the entire way to block six and by the time I’m standing in front of the cell, I’m sure that I need to give Anderson back the authority he once had. The days of coddling bloodthirsty creatures is over. It does them no good.
The sleeping form of the girl who’s causing all the trouble in six rests atop a threadbare mattress in the middle of the cell. Aside from her bed, the room is bare. It’s for her own safety. In the initial days of the transformation, the vampire is violent. Not only are they dangerous to others, but also to themselves.
“She’s been extra feisty today, sir,” Anderson calls from a darkened corner. “I’m not sure why she’s quiet now.”
The girl’s head lifts slowly, and a macabre grin spreads wide across her insipid face. “Visitor,” she croons, standing to her feet and skulking toward me. Her dainty fingers wrap around the bars, pulling her face tightly against the steel.
Strength is a power that even new bites possess, but it’s nowhere near what Borns have. She could very well bend the steel, but it won’t be enough to escape. Especially not with Anderson at the ready.
Her tongue darts out and swipes up the length of the bar. My brow rises in question as to what the heck she’s up to. At this stage, she’s out of her mind. It’s a common theme for the early stages, until we’re able to help new bites tap into their latent humanity.
“Rust,” she moans.
“You want blood,” I surmise, and she bobs her head in confirmation.
“I don’t think so. You’re not ready.” I pick at my fingers as though bored, which only seems to incite the girl.
She bangs her head repeatedly on the bars until blood begins to trickle down her forehead.
“Enough,” I shout, moving closer to the bars, just out of reach from her. “Now, let’s talk.”
