Unsurprisingly, the words she was hoping to hear never came. Instead of a 'thank you for your help, you're free now', she was met with further condescension and new orders to accompany the vampire even deeper into this blighted hellhole. For what? The possibility that they might find a couple of corpses and another dusty old journal filled with blasphemy?
Lucia opened her mouth to retaliate but Viktor did not pause to let her speak, dominating the conversation with a voice that commanded obedience. She uncrossed her arms and stepped away from the wall, balling her hands into fists like she was ready to fight him.
"You know, for most people, saving a life doesn't come with terms and conditions. They just do it out of the goodness of their heart. Or do you even have one of those?" Her brow furrowed in anger as she faced him, not caring how high she had to angle her chin just to glare at him.
"Tch, damn you. I'll find a cure myself."
But before she could even think of where to start her search, she glanced over to see Viktor advancing toward her, an almost deadly calm about him that only frightened her even more than if he'd been shouting. She flinched when he raised his arm, thinking he would strike her to teach her a lesson. Instead, she felt his cold flesh press into her lips, pushing past them until he'd pierced his own wrist on her fangs.
Her first reaction was one of shock and disgust, revolted by the sensation of someone else's blood dripping onto her tongue. The taste, however, was not the bitter, metallic tang she'd been expecting. It was that of the finest wine to ever grace her lips, so rich and full that she felt nearly drunk off of a single drop. The smell, too, was intoxicating—when the two came together, it could only be described in one word: irresistible.
Even if Lucia's instincts screamed at her to spit it out, she couldn't stop herself from swallowing Viktor's blood like it was an innate, primal need. Starving herself as she did only made her more likely to succumb to her thirst in a moment of weakness, as she found out.
Within that bead of crimson swam a lifetime of memories belonging to its host, dreamlike visions flashing before her eyes that she at first assumed were hallucinations of some sort. It quickly became clear that she was seeing the past through Viktor's eyes, thrown into a flashback from his earlier years as a mortal, the general of an ancient elven kingdom. Stuck in this blood-fueled trance, she was unable to say or do anything at all, forced to watch helplessly as a cold betrayal played out before her. And while she clearly recognized her master, she was surprised to see another familiar face.
That woman from the study... She'd only seen her briefly, but she could never forget that hauntingly empty expression on her doll-like face. Their tale was one of a knight and princess gone wrong, twisted by deception and cruelty. While the elven man may not have been a saint, he was innocent in this regard, falsely accused and convicted without trial.
Even someone like him didn't deserve this. Broken down and left to die by the people he'd risked his life for—she could hardly imagine a worse way to go.
By the time it had ended, only seconds had passed, but in her mind it had felt like an age. He had already retracted his wrist, and so she was left to stand there, tears welling in her eyes that went unnoticed for a few moments. Hurriedly, she brushed her dress sleeve over them, refusing to let him see her cry. Had he shown her all of that on purpose?
No... He didn't even so much as address it, perhaps completely unaware it had happened at all. Lucia's head spun with the new information, unsure of how to process it. He had a personal connection to the Monarch they were chasing after, a man who had saved his life and facilitated his revenge. It certainly explained why he was so desperate to find him, but in some ways she was only left with more questions than answers.
"Th-that was no reward," she snapped, but her voice was weaker than before. "What did you just do to me...?"
Thoroughly disheveled, she took a deep breath as she tried to recollect herself. She'd sworn not to drink even a drop of blood, but he'd forced it on her anyway, claiming it was for her own good. Even if that was the case, she felt as though she'd just done something irreversible, having taken the first step towards truly becoming one of the monsters she condemned.
Still, she did feel better without the burn of sanguine thirst in her throat. For now, she decided not to mention what she saw to him, knowing it wouldn't change things. He'd made up his mind, and all she could really do was hope they found the Monarch quickly, or else have a cure for vampirism dropped in her lap.
"... Fine. I'm choking on dust in here, anyway." Lucia sighed and turned to the exit, trying not to look at the painting of Cordelia that loomed above her. Her ancestor watched her with those keen red eyes, so many mysteries swirling around her disappearance. How did she know her descendant would come looking for her one day? Why did she go into hiding without telling anyone? Was she even still alive?
If that journal was correct, then the answers to all of those questions lie somewhere within Revenant Valley.
. ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . . ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ .
Lucia stayed silent in the carriage just like before, but there was a different sort of atmosphere on the ride home. She'd had time to think about Viktor's memories and Cordelia's whereabouts, sure, but there was something else that had arisen in the absence of her hunger. The blood she'd consumed had the power to give her glimpses into the past and even made her feel stronger and more rejuvenated, but she also felt hot. It had been easy to ignore while she had so many other things on her mind earlier, but she was suddenly becoming very aware of how she was sitting in a confined space with a man only inches from her.
And that made her feel, well, less than puritanical.
This was not a normal feeling for her. She was a Nephilim, a Sister of the church who'd long adhered to a vow of chastity. Hell, she'd never even once considered breaking it, but now she couldn't get the thought out of her head. And it was all his fault.
It was his tainted blood, it had to be. He seemed to have a wide range of abilities, so it wasn't far-fetched to believe that he could do this to her, too. The control he had over her mind, the way he was able to make her writhe in agony with a single glance—what if he could do the same to her with lust?
She squeezed her thighs together, hiding the evidence of her arousal beneath her dress. Fuck. He knows, doesn't he? Sick bastard.
Once they were back at the manor, she hopped down from the seat and trailed behind him, frustrated and tired after the day's events. Rather than head straight to bed, however, she decided to confront Viktor directly while trying not to make her predicament too obvious.
"You may have claimed me as your thrall, but that doesn't mean I'll put up with your perverse magic." Lucia glared up at him, her legs feeling shaky. "You've touched me with sin, haven't you? First those strange visions, now this... As if making me your slave wasn't enough. Diable." Scoffing, she continued to follow him until they'd made it to their destination, too stubborn to just drop things and call it a night.
Despite having already fed, she was still attracted by the redolent scent of his blood, his taste lingering on her lips like a lover's kiss. Her body had reacted to it with wanton need, craving the touch of her sire more than ever. It seemed to be working, if her pursuing him was any indication.
"I-I demand you to undo whatever hex you've cast on me." The young woman swallowed hard, clutching the hem of her dress tightly as her face burned scarlet. She was too embarrassed to name it directly, and there was a good chance he wouldn't even have a clue what she was talking about, but she was convinced that it was all his doing. "I won't leave until you do."
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