Page 15 of Beast of Blood and Roses
Black dots swam in front of my eyes. “I…I work for him.” I stammered, my whole world tilting on its axis. “I’m a cocktail…cocktail waitress.”
Colette clasped my arm and I jerked back violently, my skin crawling at the contact. She dropped her hand immediately,guilt flashing across her face. “I’m sorry,mon petit. I didn’t mean to startle you, but you don’t look well. When was the last time you ate or drank anything?”
I blinked slowly, struggling to focus through the fog of despair. “Last night…I think.” I was barely concentrating on what she was saying. My escape plan had just evaporated like smoke. Fierro worked for Enzo Di Salvo and Angelo Santi. They were all vampires, meaning they wouldn’t help me. And if they were all connected...what if Mr. Danvers was one of them too? What if my only hope for rescue was also a monster? The walls felt like they were closing in. I was trapped, completely, utterly trapped. My chest tightened as if I was wearing a corset and someone pulled too tightly, cutting off my air. There was no one else I could contact for help.
I was on my own.
She stuck out her hand. “Rosalie, please, come with me. No one will harm you.”
I stared at it as if it were a coiled snake, ready to strike. “But he said if I didn’t eat with him, then I wouldn’t eat at all.” The hopelessness in my words only made my hunger worse.
“Monsieurwill not know,” she said firmly, maternal protectiveness radiating from her voice. “I will not allow you starve. Please, come with me. I will make you a French breakfast, no?”
“I don’t want you to go to all this trouble for me.” I flashed her a weak smile as my stomach clenched with desperate hunger. “Something simple like toast would be fine.”
“Nonsense,chérie. Come. Besidesmonsieur, I haven’t been able to cook for anyone in a very long time.” She winked and took my hand. The warmth of her skin was startling after touching her cold, marble-hard statue form. I found myselfallowing her to take my hand, starved for any kindness in this nightmare.
I took a quivering breath, steeling myself for more revelations. “Are there any other supernatural creatures here that I should worry about?”
She stared straight ahead. “No. It’s just us.”
The tension in my shoulders eased and I rubbed my forehead. At least I wasn’t going to run into the wolfman or Frankenstein. I didn’t want to think that all the monsters were real. “How do people not know about vampires?”
“We keep our world secret. Otherwise we would be hunted.” She held up a hand, obviously seeing my next question forming. “And before you ask, there are hunters and they are as ruthless as we are.”
Hunters? Like those guys from that monster-hunting show? This was too much. I gripped the railing hard. “I know it’s morning, but I think I could use a drink.”
Colette gave me a concerning look. “Are you okay?”
“Just a little overwhelmed.”
She put her arm around my waist and escorted me down the stairs. Her touch was surprisingly comforting, warm and gentle, nothing like the cold marble I’d felt when she was a statue. For the first time since arriving here, I didn’t feel completely alone. Marcel appeared at the bottom of the grand staircase, his posture formal as it had been the day before, though I noticed dark circles under his eyes that hadn’t been there yesterday.
“What has happened? Why is she out of her room?”
I looked at him warily, wondering if he was going to run up and tell the beast.
“She is hungry, Marcel. The poor thing hasn’t eaten ordrank anything. I will not have her locked in her room starving and dying of thirst.”
Marcel stared up at the stairs as if he was afraid the beast would come charging down the stairs, demanding an explanation for why I wasn’t in my room.
“She needs a drink, Marcel. Fix her a nice mimosa while I fix her breakfast.”
“Mimosa? Are you sure?”
“Nothing but the best here.”
I shifted uncomfortably, my stomach knotting with anxiety. This felt like being caught between my parents during one of their fights, except the stakes were so much higher. If I caused problems between them, I’d be completely alone in this nightmare. “Really, you don’t have to go to all this trouble. I can make my own?—”
“Nonsense,” Colette cut me off gently. “You are our guest.”
The word guest made my gut twist. I wasn’t a guest. I was payment for my father’s debt. Having them wait on me like I was someone important felt wrong, like I was pretending to be something I wasn’t. Back home, I was the one making breakfast, cleaning up, taking care of everyone else. I was the one who went to work every day, sometimes pulling double shifts, just to pay the bills. This felt like they were trying to fatten up the sacrificial calf so I could seduce the beast.
She led me into an immaculate white-marble kitchen that looked like something from a cooking show. Marble countertops stretched across custom cabinets painted in pristine cream, while copper pots hung from an ornate wrought-iron rack above a massive Viking range. A crystal chandelier cast warm light over the central island, where fresh herbs grew in terra cotta planters. French doors opened onto what looked like acourtyard garden, letting in dappled morning sunlight that made the whole space feel ethereal. Despite the mansion’s dark secrets, this kitchen felt like a sanctuary: warm, inviting, and completely at odds with the supernatural horrors lurking beyond its walls.
She motioned me to sit on a fancy barstool upholstered in buttery leather that probably cost more than I made in a month. I perched on the edge of the stool, afraid to fully settle in, my worn, faded black sundress a stark contrast to the pristine elegance surrounding me.Everything in this kitchen screamed wealth, from the crystal stemware hanging above the island to the imported Italian tiles beneath my feet.
Colette brought out a carton of eggs, a loaf of crusty French bread that looked like it came from an actual bakery, and thick-cut bacon that was nothing like the cheap stuff I bought at the corner store. Rich, savory smells began to fill the air, and I knew they would definitely permeate through the house. My mouth watered despite my anxiety, but guilt twisted around my rib cage like a snake. This felt like accepting charity from my captors.
