Her Vampire Master

Chapter Twelve

Elizabeth was on her knees in the garden, she was pulling weeds up from her herb plot. It was one of the few things she enjoyed, sitting in the sun with the earth on her hands. She looked up at the clouds, the sun was bright today and it was warm enough that she didn't need on a heavy cloak.

She was in a soft green hand-knit sweater with intricate cabling on the sides that Mary had knit for her, under that she had on a simple yellow dress. She sighed as she pushed her long braid over her shoulder hating the weight of it, she looked out over the grounds wondering how far she could make it if she took off right now.

Probably not far, she had no money with her. She took a deep breath before standing up, she wouldn't run at least not until she had a plan. The time had been passing too fast with just the three of them, in a few days, Ciaran and Fiona would arrive.

She didn't mind Fiona out of all the vampires, the oldest of the group didn't pay much attention to her. Sometimes she would use her as a sounding board of sorts and that was alright with Elizabeth, she knew Fiona didn't regard her as anything more than Charles' pet.

The day she had slit her wrist it was Fiona who had found her and tended to her wounds, in an uncharacteristic manner that she was truly shocked by. The petite auburn-haired vampire had stitched her wrist up with tiny stitches, and then cleaned her body off with a soft sponge and oil that smelled of sweet things it soothed her damaged skin. She had brushed talc through her hair absorbing the oils and brushed it til it shown like spun gold.

She had tended to her til Charles had come back to his room, he was furious with the other vampire and had stalked off immediately to find him. Fiona had shared some of her past with her that night, how she had used to take care of girls in a brothel in a similar matter. That was where her maker had found her, she had told Elizabeth as she slipped in and out of her dreamlessness.

Charles had returned later that evening knuckles bloody and his eyes dark, that was around the time that he had started to take better care of her. Elizabeth thinks that's when he realized that he wasn't going to just let her die easily, she had become more than a meal and bedwarmer to him.

She shook her head trying to shake off thoughts of the past as she made her way up the stone walkway towards the house, she opened the door stepping inside the dim kitchen allowing her eyes to adjust to the perpetual darkness the creatures around her lived in. When her eyes adjusted she noticed the Chef watching her, she nodded her head as she made her way further into the room.

She had spent many a time sitting on the stool that sat in the corner talking to him about food and his travels. Chef had worked as a cook in a great many places and she had loved to hear about his adventures, it made her sad to think that he probably wouldn't welcome her company in his kitchen anymore.

She went to grab the tea kettle and start a pot of tea for herself, he moved to the water pump to get her water and she smiled at him in thanks. She hadn't been prepared for him to move to help her, most of the minions did as little to help her as they could. Milos was getting better about it since Charles had threatened to stake him last time, but Agata still didn't seem to care for her very much. She understood their hatred of her, even if it did bother her.

He went to set up the teapot for her as she put the kettle on the burners, "Nothing tastes the same now." He said with a frown as he scooped tea leaves into a small silver tea ball.

"I've always wondered if it did, Charles likes to eat but none of the others do." She said glad that at least he was talking to her, she sat down on the edge of the stool waiting for the water to boil as she picked the dirt from under her fingernails.

"It's bland, I still enjoy cooking. But it's like nothing has any flavor like it's muted." He said sadly as he moved to get the tin of shortbread cookies to arrange them on a plate for her.

They made small talk about the herbs she was growing before it seemed the Chef came to realize that they were talking like they had before. He moved to get the boiling kettle off the stove and poured it into the delicate teapot, silence filling the room once again. The smell of mint tea filled the room as she took the tray from him, "Thank you."

"You could come back," He said as she turned away from, "I mean if the mater allows it. I enjoyed it when I cooked for you."

She smiled at him and nodded before leaving the room and heading to the study to finish her book, she liked to read there in the afternoons sitting in the sunlit window while the other vampires slept. She was a good point in her book Wuthering Heights and couldn't wait to get back to it for a while, she had read it many times although it was a bit of fun to read it closer to the date that it had been published.

Milos stood hidden out of view leaning against the wall unsure of what to make of what he had just witnessed, it was like a scene he had walked into several times before his turning. With her perched on the stool listening intently to Chef prattling on in the way he did, he had a lot to think about and he was starting to wonder if his earlier assessment of her on the night of his turning was indeed correct or if she was a victim in this situation like the servants as well.