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And the feeling that overcame me in this moment . . . This intense desire . . . I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d felt like this. My heart skipped several beats, my blood turned hot, and I felt an instant impulse slither up my spine. Could acquiring a pet fill the void inside me? Is this what I’ve been looking for?
“How interesting!” I finally managed to say.
Lysander smiled. “Her Majesty seems to enjoy her pet quite a lot.”
I was curious, but I didn’t ask any more questions. It wasn’t my place to pry on the Queen’s private life. I took my leave and headed back to my mansion.
The large house stood at the end of a large tree-lined plot with a wrought-iron fence. Balconies overlooked the second-floor bedrooms. The windows were stained glass, a luxury my great-grandfather had insisted on. The Victorian roof gave the house an air of grandeur. Behind the house was a large garden of flowers and shrubs, where I loved to stroll.
Except for me, only a few servants lived here. It seemed unnecessarily large now that my parents were dead. My mother had told me many times that I should find a vampiress and start my own family. I had been with many, but none felt like the right one.
Seeing Jason at the castle that afternoon anchored a need in me that wouldn’t leave. I craved fresh blood. I should get a pet.
I tried to convince myself it was ridiculous. I didn’t need one. My family always preferred drinking blood wine. My mother used to tell me that we were civilized and had come a long way since our ancestors. She would remind me of the horrible dark times of our race and warn me not to make the same mistake. She was referring to when the human population had been decimated, almost to extinction. It was something close to her heart, and I tried to respect how my mother raised me. Still, the idea was there and wouldn’t leave me until it became an obsession. Nothing could satisfy this thirst anymore.
So much so that I was on my way to the human pet store two days later.
I walked on the gray stones of the streets. I passed the tavern. The happy laughter of the first customers could be heard down the street. I passed a blood bank and a few stores before finally arriving at the pet shop. The building wasn’t very big, and the sign was handwritten. It had once been a business specializing in merchandise for humans. Ironic that the same business now sold humans.
As I entered the dimly lit store, I wrinkled my nose at the smell of urine. Cages lined the wall, each containing a human, some straw, a bowl of water, and food scraps. Some were asleep, others clung to the bars in panic.
An aged vampire, probably half a century old, came to meet me. His hair was neatly combed on either side. He was well dressed, and his mustache curled up.
“Lord Dumoulin! Welcome to my humble establishment!” he greeted.
I was surprised at first. I didn’t expect my reputation to precede me here. But after examining the vampire for a few seconds, I recognized that I’d seen him before. He was a nobleman, but his name escaped me.
“I expected a neater store,” I commented.
“Ah, yes. I’ve been told that several times this week,” he countered. “I’m working on it, but the pets still urinate outside their cages.”
I nodded in silent judgment—what filth. I approached and examined the humans. They looked healthy, all adults, and the majority were women.
“They were all caught in the city. The ones produced on the farm are only babies,” explained the owner.
I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, but I knew I’d know when I found it.
In the first cage was a pot-bellied man. His hair was greasy, and he smelled of sweat. I immediately moved away from him, repulsed. I quickly passed the cages of two women. They were beautiful, one a redhead, the other a blonde, but neither particularly appealed to me. A young man with long, curly brown hair and blue eyes was in the next cage, skin dotted with freckles. I hesitated and looked at him for a long time. I decided to check out the other cages, but I’d return to him if I didn’t find anything better.
And then I saw her. She was in a cage at the back of the store. Long black hair and big brown eyes that bled with defiance. Spend hundreds of years craving fresh blood, and you learn to read prey by a single glance. She wasn’t like the others. The dirty rags she wore were torn, leaving me with a taste of disgust in my mouth at the thought of how the owner treated his merchandise.
“You, what’s your name?” I asked the woman.
“You don’t need to address them directly,” said the owner.
I turned to him and replied with annoyance, “I’ll address her if I want. If she will be my pet, I should be able to talk to her.”
I turned to the woman and repeated, “I asked for your name.”
The woman looked at me. “No.”
“Now, now,” the owner warned, “what did I say about being rude to vampires?”
The woman squinted her eyes and spat at the seller’s feet. He fumed and reached behind a stall without sparing me a look. At the sight of a whip, she gasped.
“Know your place, or you’ll suffer the consequences,” he said hatefully.
Anger filled me as he opened the cage door. The woman ducked into the corner of her cage, and I grabbed the vampire’s wrist as he swung his arm into the air.
