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“Newling...come closer.”
Mallory swallowed hard, attempting to ignore the wave of nausea threatening to knock her to her knees. This was the first time that her new Master had acknowledged her presence. For four long weeks, he had treated her as if she was nothing more an an invisible spirit roaming the halls of the gilded manor home. His lack of interest had led her to believe that her only use was to scrub his muddy footprints from the marbled floors and to remove the blood stains from the white collars of his shirts.
Perhaps she wasn’t so lucky, after all.
“Me, Sir?” Mallory asked, daring to raise her warm brown eyes to meet her Master’s gaze.
Michael pulled back his lips into a calculated smile, not wanting to spook the petite beauty before him. He could all but smell the adrenaline coursing through her veins and needed to calm her nerves before the hormone soured her blood. He needed to be delicate with this one, she was far too precious to mishandle.
“ You,” Michael purred, willing a pair of phantom hands to skim along the scullery maid’s white apron, “come closer to me.”
With a shaky nod, Mallory dropped her cleaning rag on the mahogany buffet table and reluctantly stepped towards the statuesque man. There were rumors that Master Langdon had unnatural abilities, but she had written them off as nothing more than nonsense meant to frighten her. Feeling the unmistakable weight of fingertips scraping along her clavicle, however, made her wish she had taken stock in the hushed whispers of her bunkmates.
“Sir?” Mallory asked nervously.
Pleased with the young woman’s obedience, Michael quirked his head and gave her a slow and thoughtful once over. He had no idea who the stunning creature was, nor did he remember approving the order to acquire new help. It was vexing to say the least.
“What’s your name?” Michael inquired, purposefully softening his voice.
“Mallory,” she replied.
“Mallory,” Michael repeated, letting the syllables slowly roll off his tongue, “hmm...and when did you arrive at my home, Mallory?”
Mallory blinked, slightly confused by his question. Why would he ask her that? He was the one that had initiated her trade. This had to be some sort of test, she reasoned. He was making sure she was worthy enough to spit shine his leathered boots.
“A month ago, Sir.”
Scoffing, Michael shook his head and took a step forward into the maid’s personal space. There was absolutely no way she had been under his nose for that length of time. Her honeysuckled blood was too pure to go unnoticed.
“Don’t lie to me, girl,” he warned.
“I…I...I’m not, Sir. I entered the Manor the beginning of October...I, uh...I believe it was the fifth?” Mallory stammered.
Narrowing his eyes, Michael paused and allowed his mind to search out Mallory’s vibrant aura. For some reason, her thoughts were impenetrable but there wasn’t a hint of deception radiating from her emotions. Only fear, confusion, and the underpinnings of unmistakable desire. To his shock, she is was telling the truth.
Lifting his right hand, Michael gently grasped the maid’s rounded chin and brought her gaze to his. He needed more information.
“From which House?” He asked, swiping the pad of his thumb across her lower lip.
Pushing out a fractured breath, Mallory shivered under her Master’s touch; partly from the intensity burning in his clear aqua eyes, and partly from the sudden butterflies filling her belly. She wondered if he enjoyed watching her squirm.
“The Third House,” she replied, her voice nothing more than a whisper.
Instantly annoyed by her answer, Michael dropped his fingers to the maid’s exposed neck and gingerly squeezed her flesh. Why would that frigid cunt send a simple scullery maid to his House? There was always an ulterior motive behind every move the bitch made.
“And why would Venable let you go, Mallory?”
Mallory’s doe eyes widened, panic causing her heart to beat wildly in her chest. She felt like a mouse cowering in front of a fanged serpent. For probably the first time in her entire life, she was in real danger.
“I...I don’t know...I woke up to her yanking me out of my bed by my hair. She said...she said that I had sinned with the stable boy,” Mallory began.
Ahhh, Michael thought, that would explain why Wilhelmina wanted her gone. What it didn’t explain, however, was why he was completely oblivious to Mallory tiptoeing around his manor.
“Well... did you, Mallory?” Michael asked, curious to know what kind of girl she was, “did you fuck him and break your Mistress’ cardinal rule?”
Shaking her head, Mallory squeaked as Michael tightened the grip on her throat. He was enjoying this , she realized. The other maids were right, Master Langdon truly was a sadist.
“No! NO!” Mallory yelped, “I haven’t...I’m not...no! I didn’t! I wouldn’t have jeopardized my position! I swear!”
Humming a reply, Michael eased his touch and gave the blushing maid a sly grin. Her protests were making him hungry. Hungry for more information, hungry for a taste of her sticky sweet blood...hungry for the carnal pleasure her virginal body would no doubt bring him. He should take her right then and there and be done with it...but where the fun be in that? Besides, he desperately needed a distraction from his upcoming Ascension.
Perhaps Mallory was just the toy he needed.
“Hmm...alright. I believe you, Mallory...but I need to look into this. Go back to your quarters and stay there until I send for you,” Michael ordered, releasing his hold and taking a step back from her trembling form.
Mallory searched Michael’s angelic face, unsure of the dark glint in his eyes. For some reason, she had been given a reprieve-but for how long? She wondered if she had enough time to make an escape.
“Yes, Sir,” Mallory offered, instinctively bringing her hand to where Michael’s had been only seconds before.
Raising a brow, Michael watched in amusement as the maid continued to stand frozen in place. He knew it was all just an act, however. Something told him she had a hidden fire inside, just waiting to be set free. No doubt, he would enjoy this one.
“Go, Mallory,” he commanded, opening his arm towards the ornate door of the room.
Nodding her head, Mallory gave her Master one last look and willed herself to leave the overheated parlor. Time was of the essence. She needed to think and move quickly, while her blood still belonged to her.
Clearing his throat, Michael called out after the fleeing maid; warning her with final thought.
“Oh...and remember, Mallory...my hellhounds will kill you before you even reach the front gates.”
Mallory winced and continued on her path, not daring to glance back at her Master. He was right, she conceded. There really was only way she would ever make it out of this House.
She was fucked.
((A/N-I know this chapter is kinda tiny...I’m sorry, I just really wanted to get this out in the universe...the next chapter will be longer, I promise!!))