His Beloved or His Mate

Chapter 5

   Gabriella felt a tinge of guilt when she looked over to Ravana, Salome, and Myung since she hadn’t even cared to acknowledge them since leaving the house. Being with Raith, it seemed every thought, every molecule of her being, was devoted to him. Everyone else just faded into white noise. Sensing the awkwardness, Lady Salome was quick to loop an arm through Gabriella’s, her smile encouraging Gabriella that everything was fine.

    Lady Salome rambled, “Seattle is so fun! You’ll have a blast. There’s this great place downtown in Westwood I discovered that has the best clothes. We can even get you some food since you didn't get dinner, too.”

    Myung’s voice darted, “No!” The three women jumped at his interruption. He bowed, “Excuse me, ladies. But we will not be going south tonight.”

    “Come on, Myung. I want to show Gabriella around.”

    "My Lady, you know why we can’t go there.” He pressed, “King Raith has given specific instructions.”

    Her lips pouted until she and the Day Watcher exchanged looks. Myung issued a firm, impenetrable glower and Lady Salome surrendered, “Ok, fine!”

    Ravana suggested, “Salome, darling. We can go to Westlake? Start her off slow? The shops there are also fun to peruse.”

    Myung blurted, “Excellent choice,” before Lady’s Salome’s opened mouth could utter protest. He opened the SUV and ushered them in. 

    As they drove to the shopping district, Myung was rattling off the list of instructions that they were to do tonight as per request of their King. Gabriella needed to eat, get her anything she asked for, and that this was all to be done in three hours. He declared if they weren’t on the ferry by midnight and on their way to the manor, that he would be impaled by Raith. Gabriella had asked him why he liked his ‘impaling’ metaphor so much. To which, Myung declared it wasn’t a joke and that she needed to read the classic vampire history of Vlad the Impaler.

    Stone, steel, scads of glass, and decorative sidewalk greeted them as they arrived at Westlake Shopping Plaza. Gabriella was relieved everyone else knew where to go because the place was an absolute maze. 

    As Salome and Ravana’s dress-up doll, she was dragged from shop to shop, trying on clothes that the Ladies chose, and then waiting for approval after cat-walking with the outfit in the dressing room. Although she trusted them on wardrobe tastes, secretly, she looked at Myung for the final decision. He would give an inconspicuous thumbs up or down from across the room where he sat on a lavender chasse. Lady Salome nearly caught the interaction to which Myung shrugged at her and then pretended to be interested with something on his cellphone. After an armload of clothes weighed their arms down, they finally decided it was time to move on.

    At the checkout counter, Myung handed Gabriella a black plastic credit card. Butterflies awakened in her stomach when she noted the name on it: Gabriella Karayan

    But she wasn’t sure if she felt excited or disturbed. 

    The name doesn’t look right. That's not my name. 

    It is your name.

    The cashier patiently waited behind the counter for her to break from the insecure reverie wherein she blushed and presented her with the credit card. 

    The girls walked on either side of Gabriella as they exited the store and down the sidewalk. They chatted about what was absolutely going to be done that night, fretted on only having ninety minutes left in Seattle yet having only been to two stores, and then decided to feed Gabriella so she had energy for at least one more store. Admittedly, despite the whirlwind of a shopping trip, she was having a great time. Lady Salome and Princess Ravana had embraced her, despite the fact that something had happened to her and she couldn’t remember them at all, with complete open arms. Already, she felt a connection to the girls as if they had been her friends for forever. Yet, this also made her sad. She desperately wanted to remember them.

    As they ambled in and out of the flurry of people over the large cement courtyard, descended down the escalator, and strode to the eatery, Myung stalked in front of them, his eyes attentive at everything and everyone around them. He looked different than the normal, relaxed guy he was earlier. He was rigid, serious, his hands balled at his sides. Everywhere he went, every turn or walkway, they followed as if they were tied to him, without question. He barely spoke and seemed to have lost his smile. Gabriella decided she didn’t like this side of him. 

    Maybe he was 'hangry'? 

    He was, as far as she could tell, human, too. Humans needed food, right? As she and Myung stood in line to order, with Ravana and Salome waiting back at a table they had picked out, she decided to pry a little.

    “You ok?”

    He didn’t look at her; instead, his eyes prowled the food court. “Perfect, why?”

    “You seem… distracted?”

    Myung shot her a side glance, but quickly went back to watching everything else. “My Queen, you and the Ladies are in my protection at the moment. I’m not Myung out here in public. I’m the Queen’s bodyguard.”

    Gabriella’s mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ as her eyes widened and scanned the room. In a serious whisper, she asked, “Eeek. Ok. Is someone going to attack us? Is someone following us?” 

    “King Raith has many allies yet just as many enemies. But please don’t worry. I’m here.” He winked. “Attacking out in the open isn’t normal. But we need to make sure we aren’t caught off guard.”

    “Why would they want to attack us? We aren’t doing anything wrong.” She muttered, her eyes dodging around the room as they progressed in the food line. 

    Myung’s expression darkened a little. “You don’t need to do anything wrong today. These are issues that could have happened centuries ago; grudges can live forever in the vampire world. It’s usually personal. Or,” he gave her a pointed look, “they simply want to take King Raith’s throne. Some vamps are power whores.” He eyed her warily. "And other supernaturals… like, you know, the werewolves."

          “Oh.” She nodded, brow crunching.  Suddenly, she didn't feel like being outside of the manor. What would happen if the werewolves took her away again? What if they killed her this time? Her mind mingled with this for a bit, wondering why they even wanted her in the first place, but she was glad Raith had rescued her. 

    When they finally were next at the counter to order, she scoured the menu and then asked. “Hungry? Burger? Or are you in the mood for chicken tenders?”

    He balked. “Uh- sure.”

    Gabriella giggled. “What? Can’t you eat on the job?” She covered her mouth in mock surprise.  “Is that breaking some sort of vampy rule?” 

    “No,” Myung smiled. “It’s just that- I’m just Myung, the king’s thrall. I am not usually included in that aspect.”

    “Well, that changes here and now,” she grinned at the notion that mere hours before, Myung had been pressuring her to eat something, and now here she was, trying to get him to eat.  “You want moo meat with bacon goodness?”

    Myung’s grin broadened. “Double the moo. With no rabbit food. I hate it when it gets all wilty. And no devil fruit.”

    “Devil fruit?”

    “Tomatoes,” he grimaced.

    She laughed, “Ok, a non-wilty, hold the tomato, oinky burger coming up!” Gabriella stepped up to the counter and started to order. 

    The cashier attentively typed in their request as a very loud, obnoxious girl shouted to the right of them. “BREE!”

    Gabriella nearly jumped out of her skin as she turned to the speaker and said, “What?”

    The red-headed teen gave Gabriella a strange look, smacking on her gum, then rolling her eyes to dismiss her just as quickly. “Bree, you beeyotch! You never told me you worked at Westlake food court! Sweet!” She addressed the cashier.

    Gabriella noticed then the nameplate pinned onto the girl’s uniform: BreeAnn. 

    BreeAnn blushed at the call-out, rolled her eyes just as spectacularly as her friend, then abruptly told the girl who she called Angie that she was working and to come back later when she had a break. Angie surrendered with a “whatever” and disappeared within the sea of people.  BreeAnn apologized and quickly began putting their order together with someone else behind the counter.

    Myung grabbed their tray of food after it was prepared and walked back to Salome and Ravana who were both still engrossed in the conversation they had been in since they had left the dress shop about clothing; though, it now focused more on European designers. Ravana appeared less committed to the topic as Salome was, whose sapphire eyes were bright with interest.

    When she and Myung sat down, the girls rose in unison. “We will be back. Headed to the Ladies Room.”

    “Ten minutes,” Myung said gravely. "You know we need to keep the king's schedule for Gabriella to even be out here. Don't push it..." then he added, a bit more delicately, "my Lady."

    "Fine!" Lady Salome pouted, “We’ll need fifteen. Slave driver,” before they left.

    Gabriella’s brow furrowed as she leaned in to Myung and whispered, “Vampires use the bathroom?”

    Myung shoved a french fry in his mouth as he shook his head. Nearly done chewing, he answered, “No, they do not.” He gave her a pointed look.

    Gabriella watched the girls disappear behind the swinging door in wonder. Yet, her growling stomach refused to give it much more thought as she turned and began to devour her burger. 

    Myung wasn’t much of a conversationalist due to his guard duties, so eating her meal went uninterrupted, and she was through with it quite quickly. Even so, Myung had nearly gulped his burger and fries within five minutes. Together they threw away their trash, and waited for the Ladies by the bathroom entrance. When another five minutes passed, Gabriella volunteered to fetch them. Myung was hesitant at first to let her go, but eventually allowed it.

    The bathroom had a series of black-doored stalls on one side of the room and an equal number of sinks on the other flanked by hand-dryers and dwarfed by a huge wall mirror. The room appeared empty, and the echo of Gabriella’s clicking sandals on mosaic tile helped solidify that idea. She rubbed her arms as a chill prickled across her limbs. 

    Did the temperature just drop?

    “Hello?” She muttered with bated breath. “Ravana? Salome?”

    The final handicap stall at the end of the row slowly creaked open, and Ravana’s head popped out. Gabriella paused and Ravana gaped.  Her stark yellow eyes had been replaced with a violent crimson. 

    Thirty seconds isn’t a lot of time. Thirty seconds can come and go in a blink. 

    But these were a very long, disquieting thirty seconds as they said nothing but stared at each other. 

    “My Queen.” She cleared her throat before her hand quickly wiped the corner of her mouth, removing a bit of red liquid from its corner. “Has it been fifteen minutes?” She checked her watch and cursed. “Is Myung pissed? Lady Salome and I are nearly finished.” She tried to dismiss her.

    Curiosity… morbid curiosity? Unglued Gabriella from her spot, and with languid approach, she came within inches of Ravana. Again she stared at the princess for another solid thirty seconds before her hand reached up and grabbed the stall door, taking it from Ravana’s hand, and pulling it open enough for her to see inside.

    Lady Salome was in the corner on the floor, her red eyes wide as if Gabriella were her parent and she the insolent child. In her arms was a well-dressed woman, pale, who obviously was not conscious, wrists dripping with neglected bloody wounds.

    30 seconds later.

    “Did you kill her?” Gabriella whimpered, finally finding her voice, although it sounded far away from her, like she wasn’t really in this stall with them. Like she was observing this, not experiencing it.

    “No, my Queen.” Ravana pressed, lifting her hands up defensively. “We don’t kill.”

    Salome piped, “Unless we need to.” She wiped her mouth off with the heel of her hand. 

    “Need to?” Gabriella squeaked.

    Ravana added, “...need to protect ourselves. We have strict standards. For hundreds of years. Raith and you… umm… Raith set them up when the Clan began. We don’t kill when we feed. None of Clan Karayan does.”

    Feed. Sounded so… primal. 

    What am I getting into?

    “Why is she like that? Why does she look dead!?” Gabriella demanded.

    “She’s just passed out, I promise!” Salome said.

    With a grave voice, Ravana continued, “My Mistress. She is ok, trust us. Her name is Harper. She’s what we call a volens. They are willing to give us their blood--”

    Salome interrupted, “--for money. There’s a volens organization set up for when we need them. All we need to do is call, and we have them on speed dial--”

    “--not helping, Salome,” Ravana grit. “So, this all is ok. She will be ok.” 

    “Ok?” Horror gripped at Gabriella’s throat. “But she’s bleeding.” 

    Lady Salome brought the woman’s wrist up to her mouth, causing Gabriella to cringe. “It’s ok. Watch!” she insisted. The vampire licked the woman’s wrist, perhaps a little too eagerly, but when the area was cleaned with Salome’s tongue, there were no bite marks.

    “Where did the blood come from then?”

    “It was her blood. I just closed the wound,” Lady Salome said nonchalantly.

“It’s part of our physiology.” Ravana said, “Our saliva. It closes wounds.”

    “How?”

    Lady Salome shrugged. “How am I still alive when I should be dead? It’s part of whatever magic or curse that keeps a vampire going. King Raith calls it a virus, but he likes to make things sound better than they are. Virus is just a cute word, right?”

    Confused, Gabriella touched the bite mark Raith had left behind on her shoulder. Still tender, she kept her fingers just at its edges. 

    Lady Salome teased with a raised eyebrow. “That bite is different. That bite is for… marking your Beloved. It never goes away no matter how much saliva King Raith chooses to slather over it later.”

Gabriella blushed at the visual. Even thinking about it made her stomach flutter. She cleared her throat and jumped back to the topic. “So, you two have Beloved marks?”

    “Yep!” Lady Salome bared her neck, showing a red scar embedded in her flesh resembling a bite. Gabriella thought it was interesting that the lesions didn’t heal into a white marks as they normally would. Of course, that was human physics, not vampire. Princess Ravana’s mark was similar, but also on her upper neck. 

    Gabriella’s brows furrowed, “Why is yours higher on your neck than mine? Mine is in a different place.” Then also pressed, “Also are these inky veiny marks going to go away then?” She addressed the spider-like lines shooting out from under the bite.

    The girls looked at each other, something unspoken exchanging between their gaze. Ravana cleared her throat. “Although the upper neck is typical for the Beloved-mark, my King chose to bite you where he wanted. You’ll need to ask him the ‘why’ yourself.” While they spoke, Ravana’s eyes shifted to a mustard yellow, slowly changing back to the color Gabriella was used to seeing.

    Gabriella wasn’t satisfied with that answer, but she noticed the girls were uncomfortable with the topic.  “So, these volens people just let you feed off of them, are on your contact list on your phone, and you pay them?”

    “Well, we pay the organization, yes. Then the organization takes care of its people, I imagine. There’s an app for it, too.” Salome licked the woman’s other wrist, cleaning up the wounds there. She then wiggled her way out from under Harper, laying the woman on the tile floor. “The Elders had King Raith invent it a decade or two ago.” She walked past Ravana and into the bathroom. “It’s super convenient these days to find a good feed.”

    “You’re just going to leave her there?” Gabriella gasped, eyes wide. 

    “She knows the dealio.” Lady Salome shrugged. “It’s how things are. We lock the stall and she wakes up whenever, the organization comes and picks her up, and we put a few Bennies on their cash app.” 

    “Bennies? You mean they get at over a hundred dollars for this?”

    Lady Salome shrugged. “Money's just paper to us, My Queen.”

    “Sounds kinda hooker-ish,” Gabriella quipped, surprised any humor surfaced.

    Ravana chuckled while Lady Salome looked insulted, at first, then looked to be assessing the accusation before she nodded her head in agreement. “Well, the blood draw is better than s*x with the adrenaline mixer. I can see your bogus, but logical, connection.”

    “Is it really,” Gabriella asked, “...better than s*x?”

    The girls looked at each other and smirked.  Ravana said, “Well, more so with the opposite gender. Ambrose doesn’t let me drink from males. It pisses him off if I do because to him it's a little personal. Like his male ego is threatened to allow his Beloved to feed on another male’s blood.”

    “Well, he isn’t wrong,” Lady Salome’s eyebrow rose. “But just wait, girlie. You’ll need to get back into the swing of all this soon enough. Then you’ll see how drinking King Raith’s blood makes you feel all sorts of naughty things.” She winked before opening the stall and sauntering out.

    Gabriella felt her face flush. Ravana giggled as she placed an arm on her shoulders and ushered her out of the stall. As she retreated with the princess, she couldn’t stop looking at Harper.