Alpha's Legacy (Black Moon Saga Book 3)

38. Luxuries of the Living: Anna Jade

Grayson had me leave his room and return to my own bed after he finished feeding from me, though he did end up letting me steal away with his blanket.

“I don’t even need the thing,” he claimed. “I just like to enjoy what pleasures are left to me from my previous life. It may seem like a small thing, but having a soft, cozy blanket to soothe my restless nights is one of the few luxuries of the living that are left to me.”

“And these silky soft sheets certainly don’t hurt either,” I pointed out, feeling strangely resentful as I rubbed the sheets in question between my fingers, thinking of my own bare, scratchy mattress and naked pillow in the other room.

As if he knew exactly what I was thinking, the next day when he left to go out and get supplies, he came back with a present for me. Sheets and bedding for my bed. That was when I suddenly understood what he’d been talking about the night before, about the simple pleasures that he still clings to, despite no longer requiring them now that he’s a vampire. I only spent one day and night without bedding, but that was enough for me to stop taking it for granted. His “gift,” if such a thing even exists in the captor-captee relationship, was much appreciated, and it certainly went a long way toward making my time in captivity more comfortable.

Or maybe it wasn’t even a gift. Maybe it was a token of his own appreciation for the assistance that I gave him earlier that morning. It may seem silly, but it was me that helped him get the barrier back in place so he could feel better about leaving me alone while he was gone.

“You know, if you created some control sigils, you wouldn’t have to keep draining your power to maintain this,” I pointed out as I watched him drawing the shape of the barrier on the floor around my bed again.

I’m not an expert in spellcasting, but I’m pretty sure that the chalk he was using was enchanted or imbued with magic potential somehow. I’ve seen Anya use something similar, though hers isn’t black like charcoal. Hers is more of a soft lavender hue. But still, if it was the same stuff, then all it takes is touching even just one little spot in whatever shape has been drawn and reciting the spell incantation to light up the whole thing with the spell effect, guiding it where it needs to go without having to actively shape it and drain more power in the process.

“I am aware,” he gritted out, seeming annoyed by me.

“Offering to let you feed from me was a one-time deal,” I felt the need to inform him, worrying that after a whole day of maintaining the barrier again, we’d end up right back where we were last night.

“Look, girl,” he practically barked at me, glancing up to shoot me a dirty look, “If I could remember the sigils for this particular spell, then I’d use them, okay? But I’m not used to doing magic like this. I’m more of the ‘stun them with an epic spell and then dash away before they figure out that you don’t have the power to keep it going’ sort of a caster. I don’t stick around in one place very often, so I’ve never needed to learn much about things like sigils and runes and summoning circles. Those sorts of spells take time and planning, and that’s not how I prefer to live my life.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t be going around kid-napping people,” I retorted, just as annoyed with him as he seemed to be with me.

“It wasn’t planned! I told you, I saw an opportunity and I took it. Truth be told, I have no idea what I’m doing, and every moment that I spend with you reminds me of what an abominable failure I am. I’m a terrible vampire, and I spent so many years as a joke of a warlock before I finally had enough power to actually do anything with it that I’m constantly fighting all the bad habits I learned in my former life. Now I’m powerful, but I have to keep the truth of my existence a closely held secret, and that can make it pretty difficult to get out and learn the things I need to know to do more than flashy magic shows and disappearing acts. All I have to study from are a bunch of worn out old books with most of the text torn or rubbed off. I tried, but I couldn’t figure out the sigil I was trying to copy down for this.”

I can’t explain why, but I actually felt bad for the guy. If what he told me the night before was true, then he didn’t ask to become what he is. I didn’t ask to be kid-napped either, but honestly, I knew I’d feel better with that barrier back up, especially if we could get it done in a way that didn’t drain him in the process.

My guess was that in an underground tunnel filled with hostile vampires, his barrier would be more useful than mine, not that mine is even an option. He did say that his spells were fueled by his vampiric power, which is probably why they work so well against vampires when most magic does not. That’s also probably why my own barrier was no more than an annoyance to him. It probably stung and distracted him, but it couldn’t actually hurt him or even have a chance of pushing him away.

And like I said, I’m no spellcasting expert, but I’ve seen my father’s spell books and watched him create a lot of runes and sigils over the years. The most common spells he uses these days are protective ones for things like warding the area around the packhouse and preventing anyone who doesn’t carry his mark from being able to teleport into our territory, and protective magic uses a lot of sigils. I knew that there was a chance that I might recognize whatever symbol Grayson was trying to create if he showed me the book he was copying it from.

“Let me look at it so I can see if I recognize it,” I offered, with much less annoyance and hostility than before. “Maybe it’s one of the sigils that my father uses, and I might be able to draw it out for you.”

“Why would you do that?” he questioned, eyeing me warily. “Why would you help your captor keep you captive?”

“I’m your captive whether I help you or not,” I reminded him. “If I knew a way to get out of here, I’d already be gone. But I don’t, so I’m stuck here, and I’d much rather be stuck behind the protection of your barrier than just hanging out in the open like this, and I’d also rather that your barrier not be a constant drain on your power. As I said, feeding from me was a one-time deal. It won’t happen again, and I’m guessing that you’d rather not drain your supplies at such a rapid rate either.”

“I knew you weren’t an idiot.”

I suppose that was high praise coming from him, though I could have done without the borderline mocking grin and how he ruffled my hair like I was an adorable little child.

But he did let me help him figure out the sigils, and though it took us most of the morning to get it exactly right, it felt worth it once he finally got the barrier back up. I could tell that he felt relieved, and I certainly felt a whole heck of a lot safer. Not just from the feral vampires that roam these tunnels, either.

If him being a vampire is a tightly held secret, then it’s no great leap to assume that he must ration his blood, not wanting to draw attention by acquiring too much at a time. The only safe, reliable way to get it is on the record, by registering with The Council. Grayson must have to use black market resources, which is a risky and dangerous way to go about it that only gets riskier and more dangerous the more that you do it. That means that he probably doesn’t keep much on hand at once, so he’s probably rarely well-fed. And I already know that I make a tempting snack for him, especially now that he’s had a taste.

“Is there a way to make this so that if you’re bloodlusting, you can’t get through it?” I felt the need to ask. Otherwise, it would defeat the whole purpose.

“Yes, and it’s built-in,” he assured me with a smile. “This particular barrier is to ward off vampires, and since I can’t use my magic when I’m that drained and without my magic this barrier will treat me like any other vampire, then during a bloodlust, I’ll be at the top of the list of creatures who can’t get past it.”

“Good.”

“Agreed.”

And with me secured behind that barrier once again, he felt more confident that I’d stay put and be safe while he was away. He was gone for a few hours, though thankfully, he gave me his lamp and left the paper and pencils with me so that I could keep myself occupied while he was gone. He was putting a lot of trust in me to not try to craft a weapon or some means of escape as soon as he turned his back, but I knew better. I was pretty sure that none of the materials he gave me could protect me from the feral vamps even if I did get out, and besides, I didn’t want to ruin any of it.

Especially since the lamp seemed to be the only light source in the whole place. Vampires don’t even need light. Unlike werewolves, who have much better senses than humans and can see well in low-lighting, pitch blackness is still pitch blackness to us while to him, it’s his natural habitat. That’s what the red eyes are for, apparently. They allow vamps to see well enough to hunt in total darkness. They’re like infrared or night vision goggles or something cool like that which I don’t even understand.

But like with the blanket, he keeps the lamp because it brings him comfort. He likes being able to see the way that he used to when he was just a normal warlock, and for that, he needs light. I haven’t had the nerve to ask where he gets the electricity from, though, or why he doesn’t bring in more lamps for the rest of his home. I suppose it doesn’t really matter as long as I get to keep this one, and it works, even if I don’t understand how.

After those first days with Grayson, it’s gotten a bit tricky to keep track of the time that’s passed. There are no windows or clocks or anything like that for me to use. My only way of marking time is to pay attention to his routine. He’s gone a lot during what I think is the daytime, just from what I know about feral vampires. Their natural internal clocks tend to be set to instinctively sleep away the days and be awake all night. Since Grayson makes a point of keeping his schedule opposite of theirs, he must be awake during the day and sleep all night. I think.

He leaves to tend to his businesses and replenish his supplies bit by bit, always being careful not to bring in too much of anything at once. That makes sense for his blood rations, but I have to wonder why he seems to be equally careful about my food and other generic things that pretty much everyone uses. No one will get suspicious if he wants to stock up on body wash and toilet paper, right?

It makes me wonder if wherever we are isn’t even his home but is just some hideout that he’s decided to stash me in for now. Maybe he doesn’t want to get a bunch of stuff and draw attention to the fact that anyone is living here, or maybe he’s being careful to make it look like he’s just a single guy who doesn’t need much. Definitely not a guy who has some teenage girl squirreled away beneath the city.

Whatever is going on, all that really matters is that he’s taking care of me. He’s keeping me clean and well-fed, making sure I’m as comfortable as possible for a captive, bringing me little gifts to help pass the time, and we even fall into a bit of a routine with each other.

He leaves in the morning to go tend to whatever he needs to do each day, and I work on figuring out some of the sigils he's been puzzling over or drawing in the sketchbook he brought back for me one day. Every night when he comes home, he makes me dinner and sits at his writing desk to chat with me while I eat. Then we go to bed in our own beds in our respective rooms, although as a vampire, he doesn’t seem to sleep any more than Tian does.

Every morning, he’s already in his chair working away at his desk when I wake up. It always seems like he has been there for a while, writing and working on whatever it is that he does to pass the time. I think he mostly studies from all those old books, which I suppose is admirable in its own way. He's mostly self-taught, and yet he has somehow managed to build quite a reputation for himself.

I have to keep reminding myself that he’s a kid-napper, that he’s my kid-napper, lest I get too comfortable with him. He’s strangely likeable, though. From what I’ve seen, he doesn’t even practice dark magic. Like he said, his dark essence comes from his vampiric power and the fact that a lot of his spellpower comes from draining the power of vampires near him. And though he may not have created the newborns roaming the tunnels, that means that he does benefit from their existence.

It also makes me wonder if he seemed so impressive that day when he appeared in the basement of the hunters’ base because he was surrounded by powerful vampires. They seemed weak and powerless against him probably for the same reason, although maybe that isn’t really a fair assessment of his potential.

Grayson is powerful, especially for a warlock. He’s told me about some of the things he’s had to do to build up his reputation and influence over the years, and a lot of those incidents happened with no other vampires around for him to draw power from. But like he said, his greatest talent lies in making himself appear impressive and then teleporting away before anyone has a chance to test it. His wits are his true strength. He’s a quick and creative thinker, I can already tell.

But there I go again letting myself appreciate rather than despise him. Even if I kind of understand him a little better than I did at first, he’s still the guy who brought me here against my will and won’t let me go. He still claims to be waiting for someone to come and collect me, someone he can trade with to get something he needs in exchange for me. But as of yet, in the three or four or so days that I’ve been here, he hasn’t bothered to share more details about his plan with me.

I also haven’t asked, though. The more I learn about him, the more he’s going to take from my memories when he’s ready to trade me, and I don’t want to give him more of my life than I have to. He may not be as terrible as he seemed at first, but I still don’t feel comfortable with the fact that he’s the one who will rewrite my memories when I leave here, and I don’t know that I trust him to give me something good in place of the truth. Or even if he does, what I really don’t like is knowing that I’ll soon be nothing more than an ignorant pawn living a fantasy life who can’t even see whatever’s about to happen to me coming.

Ignorance is not bliss. Ignorance is dangerous. It means having a giant target painted on my back and not even understanding what it means or why it’s there. It means trusting the wrong people and doing it with a smile on my face. And that, above all else, is why I can’t bring myself to like Grayson and must keep reminding myself that he’s the villain here. He’s not my friend. I might enjoy his company for a time, but at the end of the day, he’s still my enemy.

Whatever he has planned, it’s only meant to benefit him, not me. I’m in trouble, and I can’t let myself forget that, even if these are the softest sheets I’ve ever slept on.