I called several times and searched every room. When I found no one, not even Lisa, my anxiety grew. The mansion had never been empty before.
I opened the front door to search outside, but stopped when I remembered Boaz’s private study, a room I was still forbidden to enter. Not anymore. I turned around and walked toward the entrance. The door was locked but that didn’t stop me. Using magic, I jerked it open.
The inside was not what I’d expected. Instead of a room, there was a long hallway. Its décor was completely different from the rest of the house. There were no pictures hanging on the walls, no elaborate decorations, and the temperature had to have been at least ten degrees cooler. There was very little light by the time I reached the end of the hall. Just enough to see a circular, stone staircase leading down into what looked like a black hole. I glanced back the way I came, trying to decide if I should go back to grab a flashlight or even an object with glass I could light up with magic.
Forget it. I refuse to waste any time.
“Boaz?” My voice echoed down the long flight of stairs.
When I didn’t receive an answer, I began the long climb down, feeling my way as I went. The rock walls were wet with moisture, and the air smelled stale and a little like rusty pipes. When there were no more stairs, I slid my hands along the wall searching for a light switch. Eventually, I found one and flipped it on. Dull fluorescent, low-hanging lights flickered overhead, barely illuminating a long and narrow hall. Six doors were on each side, all with a single glass window. There was one last door at the end of the hall, black and as wide as the walkway.
I took a few hesitant steps forward to peer into the first room. It was empty except for one object: a girl with short uneven brown hair and pale skin that looked more grey next to the stark white walls. Her lips were the same dark purple color as her fingertips. She sat on the floor, leaning into the corner of the room. Her head was tilted up, staring at the ceiling with mouth open. Each of her hand’s rested on the floor next to her legs, palms turned up.
I watched for a moment, wondering how I felt about her. Most of me felt nothing, but a small part of me knew I should try to help her. I hadn’t experienced this sort of caring, if that was even the right word, for a very long time.
The vampire in New York City.
He must have done something to me. Had this been yesterday, I might’ve walked right on by the girl to find Boaz, but this new feeling couldn’t be ignored.
I opened the door and rushed in, hoping she wasn’t dead. When I grabbed her by both shoulders, she slumped forward, her head dropping to her chest. I pushed her back up and checked for a pulse. It took me awhile to find one, but it was there.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
The girl didn’t move, not even blink.
I squeezed her shoulders tight and yelled, “Wake up!”
Still nothing, other than the slow and steady rise of her chest as she breathed in and out. Very gently, I carefully laid her on the floor and smoothed back her hair. That’s when I saw them: two red puncture wounds. I scurried away backwards, finally understanding.
No. Please, no.
All this time, Boaz had this girl trapped, slowly feeding off of her, slowly killing her, while I was upstairs having the time of my life. I glanced to the open door, remembering the other rooms. My throat filled with acid, and I turned to throw up but nothing came out.
I staggered out of the room and down the hallway. The remaining rooms contained more of the same: white enclosed areas filled only by empty human shells. The last room, however, imprisoned two girls sitting opposite of each other. I didn’t recognize the one, but the other was Muriel, the maid I’d met when I’d first come to Boaz’s home. She’d slit her wrists.
I stumbled into the black door at the end of the hallway and fell through to the other side, tears stinging my eyes.
“Eve?”
Boaz was standing in front of a fireplace, flipping through a book. He set it down and walked to me. Hunwald followed behind.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
I looked back to the open door and into the dimly lit hallway. “The girls…”
“What about them, love?”
“There’s something wrong with them,” was all I could say.
“Of course there is. They’ve been feeding a vampire. Come. Sit down. You look exhausted.”
He took my hand and guided me to a wooden stool. He sat across from me in a plush recliner.
“Boaz, we have to help those girls,” I said.
He frowned. “Help them? Why?”
“Because,” I stammered, searching for something in me that would tell me why it was wrong, but it was as if my conscience was lost. “It’s not right.”
“When did you start caring about what was right?” he asked. When I didn’t answer, he countered my logic. “Are you saying it’s right for me to starve?”
“No.”
“I’m a vampire. That’s what I do. Don’t be na?ve.”
“I just didn’t realize—”
“Were you in your fairytale world again?”
My head jerked up. “What?”