Stella
The next day, Friday, I tour the exhibition hall with my parents for the competition that means so much for the future of my family’s vineyard, and all I can think about is Boz. He’s a killer, yet he claims this fantastical story, trying to convince me I’m his mate. I could never be his mate. Who even says that? Does he mean wife? I could never marry a cold-blooded killer.
The judges are making their way through the tables set up for tastings in their three-piece suits and fancy dresses. Our fate lies in their hands. My parents are talking excitedly about some of the tastings they’ve done at a table set up with last year’s winners. The wine is available for sale there. What if that’s us next year? How huge would that be to return in triumph and dazzle all the fellow vintners?
And it never would’ve happened without Boz’s help. He went above and beyond taking the time to work on a blend for us using his award-winning wine, arranging for this trip, paying for everything. I can’t reconcile the man I thought he was and the man I saw last night. My mind rebels instantly at the idea of him being a vampire, sucking that man dry. That can’t be what I saw. He must’ve broken that man’s neck using his powerful jaw. That’s the only thing that makes sense. He bit me too, but that was sex play. I’d be dead if he was a bloodsucking vampire, right? Just like that man. Chills rush through me, and I cross my arms, rubbing them.
“Stella, are you okay?” Mom asks. “I thought you’d be more excited about today. There’s so much we can learn from these other wineries.”
“Sorry. Jet lag. I’ll get some coffee and be good as new.”
My parents give me matching looks of concern. “You just don’t sound like yourself,” Dad says. “Your voice is monotone.”
“There’s a lot riding on today. I’m anxious.”
My dad rubs his hands together. “Me too, but we can only go up from here. I’m so thankful to Boz and Neli. Have you seen them?”
Boz’s voice echoes in my mind: I’ll see you at sunset tomorrow. Vampires awaken at sunset.
I shake away the bizarre thought. There’s a reason I’ve been terrified of vampires since childhood, and it all comes down to a late-night movie and the poor timing of my cousin scaring me. Everything is perfectly explainable and in the realm of reality. Boz is not a vampire.
“I’ll get us both coffee, Stella,” Dad says. “You want one, hon?”
My mom shakes her head. “No, thanks. I’m going to check in on the twins. They wanted to explore the shops. Stella, take notes on the marketing materials over at the winners’ table. There might be something useful for us.”
“Sure.” I wave in farewell as they leave the exhibition hall. I head over to the row of winners’ tables.
I taste a few wines, chatting with the representatives, and take some brochures. I need to focus on business, not last night. I’d like to erase last night from my mind completely. I shift to the side, discreetly taking pictures with my phone of some wine labels, and head to the next table, taking a brochure. Wait. I know this medieval castle.
My head jerks up, and I meet Neli’s eyes across the table. They won last year, so of course she’d be here representing them.
“Ever wonder why there’s a medieval castle sitting in the middle of California wine country?” she asks.
The illogical pieces slide together in my mind as I stare at the picture of the castle on the brochure. This isn’t a reproduction. It’s the real deal, an eight-hundred-year-old castle belonging to an eight-hundred-year-old man, who used to dress in a top hat and cape. Like in olden times.
Not an eccentric billionaire recluse.
Not a goth musician in hiding.
An eight-hundred-year-old man. There’s no question in my mind he’s a man. I saw him in his full naked glory. Somehow he found the fountain of youth. That must be it.
I pinch the bridge of my nose as I feel a headache forming. Neli’s suddenly at my side, signaling for a young woman to take her place at the table. She must’ve brought an assistant. Of course she couldn’t run an award-winning vineyard single-handedly. I focus on this fact instead of the larger one that makes my head hurt. It’s just not possible. No human can live that long.
“Let’s go someplace quiet for a chat,” Neli says, guiding me from the noisy exhibit space. “We’ll sit outside. There’s a nice bench under a shade tree. How does that sound?”
I follow numbly, grateful for her soothing voice. My nerves have been jangled all day. I barely slept last night, and when I did sleep, I had nightmares of blood everywhere, a man screaming while I watched in frozen horror, knowing I could be next.
A short while later, we’re seated on the bench. It’s a warm day with a light breeze. The spot is secluded, no one else around. A calm oasis.
“How are you feeling today?” she asks.
“Exhausted, frazzled, stressed out of my mind.”
“Competition has that effect on everyone.”
I lift my brows, giving her a pointed look.
“Okay, okay, I’m here to talk you through a different kind of reality. Let me start by saying I am so sorry about the way you found out. That was a shock to the system, and you didn’t deserve that.”
“Thank you.” Why am I being polite to a killer’s accomplice? I should be running straight to the authorities. But something stops me. I want to believe they’re the good people I’ve come to know.
“Let me start at the very beginning…”
I listen as she tells me the most fantastical tale about Prince Bozhidar, how he came to be the form he is now from his humble beginnings, how he took her in when she was a child and treated her well, and how life has been for them in the centuries they’ve been bonded together.
“No human lives eight hundred years,” I say stubbornly. “You’re human. Completely normal.” There’s no way Neli is a vampire. She’s a beautiful woman in her twenties. Someone I would consider a friend. “And, to be totally honest, I don’t appreciate being lied to like this.” Especially because I don’t understand why they’re doing it.
“I’m not lying, Stella. I’m immortal,” she says. “I’m bonded to Boz, and I can only leave him when he releases me.”
I snort. This whole thing is an insult to my intelligence. Vampires. Immortality. Bonds. Stupid! “Oh. And I suppose you’re hoping I’ll step into your place and be bonded to him for the next eight hundred years. And then what? He bonds with someone else and sets me free? That sounds like slavery.”
“I am his slave,” she says on a sigh.
“What? That monster! You do all this hard work making his vineyard an award winner and he doesn’t even pay you? Neli, you can’t allow him to treat you like that!” And why am I even having this conversation? It’s not like I can believe a word she says. She and Boz are liars and killers.
“I’m going to explain slowly and carefully. All I ask is that you keep an open mind, okay?”
I nod, but really I’m thinking about how I’m going to keep my family safe from these two psychos who’ve become entrenched in our lives.
“When my parents gave me to him as a child, he never used me or turned me. He bonded me to him with a blood ritual. Our lives are tied, and now I cannot die unless he kills me. And, Stella, I want to die. I’ve been around longer than I ever dreamed possible. I want my freedom even if it means through death.”
I squeeze her arm. I might not believe in this whole vampire thing, but I believed her just now about wanting death. “Oh, Neli, I don’t want you to die. Is there someone I can call? Do you have a therapist?” Maybe she’s supposed to be on meds and forgot them back home. That would explain her state of temporary insanity and longing for death.
“I’m not suicidal, Stella. I’m immortal, and death is different when you’re immortal. Death is a relief. I have lived in that same damned castle for over five hundred years, doing the same damned thing year after year—take care of vampire, run vampire’s business, move vampire’s castle, hide vampire and myself from world. I’m tired of working! And, honestly, my only other option is to become a vampire, which would happen if I tried to end my own life or someone else killed me.”
“Let me get this straight. You believe your options are to die, become a vampire, or be his slave for eternity?” She needs help.
“I’m actually Boz’s majordomo.”
“What’s that?”
“I run the household,” she says proudly. “I’m at the top of the servant hierarchy.” At my confused look, she adds, “It’s a medieval thing.”
“But I never saw other servants.”
She huffs. “Can you give me a little dignity here? I prefer having a title to being called slave.”
“Oh, of course, sorry.” I try not to let my true feelings show through—she’s nuts!—and she should be in therapy. As for the fantasies she and Boz share, I think they’re engrained in some sort of delusion to justify their psychotic, killer tendencies.
“You still don’t believe me, do you?” Neli asks.
I stare blankly. I hate lying. I truly do. But I don’t know if she’s mentally stable enough to hear the truth.
“Fine. Here.” Neli grabs my hand and sandwiches it between hers. The look in her green eyes is suddenly intense, almost hypnotic. In an instant, I feel an energy pulsing through my hand, up my arm, and into my body. My heart starts pounding, and images of Boz flood my mind. Him dressed in a black velvet suit, riding under a moonlit night, slashing his sword at a pack of hissing men with long incisors. “You feel that? That buzzing? That’s Boz’s blood in my veins. You can feel it because you’re his mate. You’re destined to be with him.”
I jerk my hand away. She said nothing about the vision I just had, but yes, the buzzing was there. And just like that, something clicks in my mind. I know she’s telling me the truth. I feel it in my heart, like I feel Boz. It’s almost as if he’s always been there, but my mind couldn’t see it.
“Holy shit,” I mutter. “Boz is a vampire.” And that means Neli is an immortal human. I swallow hard and mutter, “Majordomo is a very nice title.”
“Thank you.” She blows out a breath. “So now that you believe me, I’m sure you’ll have lots of questions?” Her voice turns cheerful and she starts clapping. “And now you can understand how excited I was to realize you’re his mate. All the signs are there! So once you accept your place with him, I’ll be free, and you’ll have everlasting love and happiness.”
“Hold on. You really were serious about dying.” I flash a worried look at her. This is all too much to take in, but two things are certain: I haven’t accepted my “place” with him—there’s a lot to think about, including what that means for my family and for my future. And two, I do not want Neli to die.
She smiles. “Yes. It’s a gift for me, not a sadness.”
My mind flashes to Boz lifting his head, blood oozing out of his mouth, the dead man lying on the floor.
“He didn’t just kill that man; he ate him,” I whisper as it all starts to sink in.
“That man was a vampire hunter and was about to drive a wooden stake through Boz’s heart. It was kill or be killed.”
There was a wooden stake gripped in the man’s hand. Neli takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. In that moment I understand the gravity of the situation. She’s bonded to a vampire who’s claimed me as his mate. And she wants to die.
My breath turns shallow, my vision dimming at the edges.
“You’re looking a little pale,” she says, guiding my head down. “Head between your knees. Can’t have you passing out here.”
I stay that way for a few moments until my breathing evens out. I slowly rise and face her, my eyes intent on hers. “Be honest. Are you a vampire?”
She bares her teeth. “No fangs. And I can eat real food. I told you I’m his majordomo.” Fancy title for a sad state of affairs.
“Wait. Do vampires eat anything besides…” I can’t even say the word. It’s disgusting to think of Boz drinking blood.
“They can’t ingest human food. Wine is just about the only exception.”
Now that she mentions it, I never really saw Boz eat anything, though he did take a bite of steak at dinner last night. Then he spit it out in his napkin. I thought he was diet conscious or didn’t like his food. But not being able to eat? How awful.
“Sorry, Neli. I like eating. I don’t want to be his slave. And, even if I could accept that, what if he bonds with me and then lets me die to bond with another?”
“Excellent question. I’m glad you’re thinking this through. The mate is special. You wouldn’t be his slave, and it’s a forever bond. Boz would never force your hand. He wants you to come to him of your own free will.”
My mind drifts to the odd conversation I had with Boz before I went to his room. He wanted me to have sunshine, scuba, and children of my own, something he thought I couldn’t have with him. At the time I thought it was an excuse, but under the new circumstances, more and more is making sense to me. “And he can’t have children?”
“You can’t if he turns you.”
I gulp. “Into a vampire?”
She hesitates before saying in a rush, “Yes. But the good news is all that everlasting love and happiness! You’d live forever, sealed to each other in an unbreakable bond. It’s better than a human marriage, which can be dissolved so easily nowadays.”
I take a deep breath, my mind finally calm enough to think this through. “So you’re saying I’d become a vampire and live forever with him. What about my family? Can they live forever too?”
“If he turns them, sure.”
I look down. My entire family and me, vampires. How would that work? Would we all have to sleep in coffins? Would Eliza and Mabel still want to bake? Wait. No more eating and enjoying their famous chocolate chip cookies? No. I can’t ask them to follow me into the unknown supernatural world. I’m not even sure I want to be there. “So, reality is, I’d have to watch my family and everyone I know die of old age, while I’m left behind never to have a family of my own. Is that the gist of it?”
“Yes, but—”
I stand. “I’ve heard enough. I’m sorry, Neli, but I can’t take your place. He’ll need to find another mate.”
I hurry back inside, ignoring her frantic pleas. “Wait! Stella! There is no other mate. It’s only you!”
I duck back inside the exhibition hall and then keep going out the door, racing to the ladies’ room. I need a moment to pull it together.
I turn the sink on and splash cold water on my face, my charm bracelet jangling with the movement. I stare at it and then frantically undo the clasp and throw it in the garbage. He put some kind of spell over me with this thing, and I refuse to be drawn in anymore.
I’ll forget Boz, even if it kills me to lose the only man I’ve ever had these kinds of feelings for. That is, until I discovered he’s a vampire. My stomach churns. This is awful. I thought our connection was straight out of a fairy tale. He was even a prince!
Now I know the horrific truth—he’s a prince of the night.