The first part is here - The Price of a Vampire - Part 1. I'm not really sure if you have to read it to understand this bit, but I linked it anyway. oo"
This is a vampire story for Suze's contest, so again, feel free to rip it into itty bitty pieces. And I forgot to mention this in the last part, but the underlined words are marked for Suze. They're nothing special. ^^"
Start
Benedict glanced at the crowd. “Any objections?”
Not a word was breathed. No one wanted to pay an absurd price for a normal slave when they could have a vampire for the same price. A slave was only a servant. A vampire was a goldmine – if you sold their blood as medicine, then you’d recoup your expenses in five years. But if you their sold diluted blood to the black market as illegal drugs, then it’d only take a year, maybe even less.
Benedict shrugged at the audience’s complacency. “Good.”
It was too much. Gavin shut his eyes and turned away in an attempt to shut himself in his own mind. The victim herself didn’t scream, but a few people in the audience cursed. Surprised shrieks, gagging, splashing, footsteps, creaking –all these filled the air. Gavin clenched his teeth and counted to fifty. The acrid smell of vomit swam through the room, mingling with the sweaty humidity.
When Gavin finished counting he opened his eyes. The only evidence left of the vampire’s feeding was the girl’s carcass being dragged away by the two burly men who’d held the vampire a few minutes before. Gavin’s stomach churned at the sight of the girl’s corpse…or what he assumed was the corpse, anyway. It was nearly unrecognizable, as the vampire had devoured her face and neck almost entirely and the bits of the bone shone through the bloodied mess. The rest of the carcass was pale and obviously drained of blood. For how long had Benedict starved that vampire?
“Convinced?”
Empty chairs littered each row. Perhaps only half the bidders remained, the duchess included. Gavin took a deep breath to steady himself before refocusing his attention on Benedict.
“Now tha’ we’ve scared the pussies away, let’s start. Bidding starts at two hundred gold coins. Do I hee’ two hundreh and twenty?”
Before Gavin could raise his paddle the man in front of him raised his eagerly.
“An’ we ‘ave two hundred and twenty – but do I see – oh two-for – no I see two sixty!”
This was absurd. The vampire’s price was high to begin with, but it was increasing at an alarming rate. Gavin grit his teeth and repeated what the duchess said to himself. Vampires were investments. He raised his paddle. He was winning this auction, no matter what.
“And we ‘ave two eighty, oh there goes three hundred! Do I see three twenty? Goin’ once – oh we ‘ave three twenty!” Benedict’s eyes lit up. “Do I hee’ three forty? Going once, going twice – Three forty from the young man in the fourth row!” Benedict roared with laughter. “I’m guessin’ tha’s the last bid? Going once, going twice – sold to numbe’ twenty-nine, the blond man in the white suit! And tha’s the end of this auction. Numbe’ twenty-nine, come onstage and claim ya new slave!”
New slave. The vampire was his. Like he wanted it to be. So how come his blood curdled in his veins?
A few hours later, well past midnight, he was sitting in his den when his somewhat grumpy butler announced the entrance of the duchess. Gavin didn’t take his eyes off the crackling fireplace, nor did he stand up to greet the duchess as courtesy required.
“How do you feel?” Her voice was refreshing, a splash of water on a cold day. So different from the voice she used at the auction room.
“Terrible.”
She approached him; sat on the arm of his sofa. “That’s natural. Where’s the boy?”
Gavin’s eyes flickered to the figure drowning in the shadows of the room’s corner. The little boy – no, monster - shrank deeper into the darkness.
“I see. So you’re one of us now.” Her words floated into the air, lightening it somewhat. “I’ll need to make arrangements.”
“Arrangements?”
“Yes, well, you’re going to have to feed the vampire, won’t you? How many a week do you need?”
People. Right. The duchess wouldn’t let him abduct and murder anyone he wanted. It made sense she would want to control who were being fed to the vampires. “I don’t know.”
“Once a month then, since you probably want to age him. After he’s aged enough, tell me and I’ll begin sending one everyday.”
Silence, deafening silence overtook the room. Her clothes rustled as she stood up. He made no move to bid her goodbye.
A person a month on his conscience. And that number was going to snowball into a man a day. Then there was a tenth of his fortune as an investment. Surely it was a small price to pay for such big returns? His father would approve of it, would he not?
“Don’t think about the vampire too much. Pretend he’s normal. In a sense, he truly is just another slave, after all.” Her voice came as a surprise. He didn’t think she was still around. “Only slavers sell vampires, just like they’re the only ones who sell slaves.”
Gavin snorted. Right. “What, they just pick vampires off the streets?”
He could imagine a sarcastic smile on her pretty face. “No, I heard they force the most beautiful children to drink some secret potion to turn them into vampires.
“Children? That’s cruel of them, isn’t it?” Gavin’s gaze was dragged back to the child by the sheer magnetism of its presence.
“Well, rumor goes they don’t have a choice. Older people die when they drink the potion.”
Older people died? Was that some story they told themselves to justify turning children into monsters? “D’you believe it’s true?” Gavin’s voice barely counted as a whisper.
“There must be a reason they only sell vampire children, no?” The duchess bent down to kiss him on the cheek. “It’s not easy owning a vampire. Don’t let the ghosts of its meals haunt your dreams, darling. Sleep well, and stay sane. For me.”
