Catherine (Echoes of Ossiria #1) (2 page)

“Catherine,” she
whispered.
 
“Please don’t hurt me.”

His grip
tightened.
 
“You will answer questions I
ask and
only
questions I ask. Are we clear?”
 
His eyes were crystal blue and a little too
bright.

“Yes.”

“You’re what,
eighteen, nineteen?”

“Eighteen.”

He nodded in
confirmation.
 
“American…university
student?”

“Yes…”

“The rules here
are simple. You do as you’re told when you are told, and you will be treated
well. Disobey me, or any of your instructors, and you will be severely punished.
Understand?”

Catherine
nodded.
 
He let go of her chin and
unbuckled the collar around her neck.
 
His fingers were cool against her skin.
 

Another
monster?

William snapped
his fingers, and a previously unseen man came forward.

“Take the girl to
the kitchen. I’ll retrieve her shortly.”

The servant bowed,
and took her arm.
 
“Yes, sir,” he said,
and led her deeper into the house.

The servant only
gave Catherine a glass of water, a hunk of bread, and a slice of cheese, but it
might as well have been a gourmet feast.
 
Of course, gulping down the water reminded her of her need to visit a
ladies’ room.
 
Not knowing the protocol
for talking to a servant, she raised her hand and waited for him to speak to
her.

“Yes?”

“I need to use a
bathroom.”

The servant rolled
his eyes, but didn’t get angry with her.
 
Instead, he took her by the arm again and led her to a tiny powder room
she could use.
 

Catherine
whispered “thank you” and closed herself inside.
 
There was no lock.
 
She couldn’t have tried anything, anyway, since
the room only had a sink and a toilet and no windows.

It was the first
time she’d looked in a mirror since leaving the dorm to meet “Liam”.
 
Her hair was fuzzed out of her braid in
spots, her face had bags and bright pink patches, and her clothes were rumpled
and dirty.
 

At least she was
finally untied.
 

She gently washed
her chafed wrists, then the “x” dug into the inner side of her ankle.
 
Her sock had been rubbing against it since
they put her shoes back on to move her.

The servant rapped
on the door.
 
“Time’s up.”
 

She came out and
was escorted back to the kitchen, where she was told to sit and wait for “the
Master”.

William came in,
his eyes always assessing her.
 
“Get
enough to eat?”

Should she be
honest?
 
“N-no, sir,” she mumbled.

He snorted.
 
“
Tallis
never did
remember the practical things.”
 
He
opened the refrigerator, then tossed a carrot on the table.
 
“You’ll be on a strict diet, here. No snacks
or sweets or junk. Finish that, and I’ll take you to your room.”

She was getting
her own room?
 

She bit off the
end of the carrot, wishing it had been peeled first.
 
The outer skin was always a bit bitter.
 

Her new captor
heated something in a mug, watching her as he sipped it.
 
He would be handsome if he didn’t look so
stern and cold.
 
She felt like a bug
under a microscope.

“Come on,” he
finally barked.
 
“It’s getting early.”

She wiped her
mouth with a napkin and nodded, rising from her seat.
 
He steered her where he wanted to go by
putting a firm, strong hand on her shoulder.
 
His grip wasn’t painful, but definitely unyielding.
 
She figured he could probably crush her
shoulder with one squeeze if he wanted to.

They went up two
flights of stairs to the top floor and down a long hall.
 
He finally stopped at a door and took a key
out of his pocket to unlock it.

“This door has no
internal lock. It will be locked from the outside whenever you are in here
until we know you can be trusted. Don’t bother trying to escape out the
windows—you can’t.”

The light flicked
on, and she saw a surprisingly pretty bedroom.
 
There was a twin size canopy bed opposite the door and a matching
dresser against the wall in dark-stained wood.
 
The walls were papered with medium blue brocade, and the linens were
cream.
 
There was a pile of boxes in the
corner.

“My things?” she
gasped, her voice barely above a whisper.

“
Tallis
was very thorough,” he said.
 
“The loo is through there. Nothing fancy.
Understand, Catherine, that anything can be given or taken away depending on
your behavior.”

“Yes, sir. May I
ask a question?”

He pursed his
lips, but nodded consent.
 

“What exactly am I
here to learn?”

“Many things. By
now, you might’ve guessed you are not among human life as you know it—you’re
among demons. As many species of animals on this planet, you’ll find just as
many demons, and they range from barely more than animals, to highly powerful
evil beings. In
Tallis’s
case, there’s not an ounce
of humanity left in him. The pompous bastard likes to make certain appearances,
and that’s where you come in. You’ve heard of a courtesan?”

“Yes, sir.”
 
In Renaissance usage, a courtesan
came to refer to “the ruler's mistress”, and then to a well-educated and
independent woman, a trained artisan of dance and singing associated with
wealthy, powerful, or upper-class men who provided luxuries and status in
exchange for companionship.
 
Not to be
confused with today’s reference to a high-dollar call girl.

“Well, in the
absence of his sire or his childe, both of which have run off for their own
schemes, he chose you. He likes to have a lady on his arm that enjoys the
bloodshed as much as he does. That’s where turning you comes into play. But…
Tallis
has his games, and so he wants you built up before
he tears you down.”
 

Catherine’s blood
ran cold at the thought.
 
He
noticed.
 
“Turn me into what?”

“A vampire. Did he
hurt you at all before bringing you here?” he asked.

“A cut on my
ankle.”

“Let me see.”
 

She sat down on
the bed and removed her shoe and sock, wincing as the sock pulled the scab
away.
 
He grabbed her ankle and turned it
so he could properly look at the wound.
 
The edges of the cuts were pink.
 

“I’ll send someone
up with a first aid kit. This looks on the verge of infection.”

“Thank you,” she
whispered.
 
His fingers on her skin were
warmer now than she expected.

William let go and
straightened to his full height.
 
“Get
some sleep. Your lessons start this evening.”
 
With that, he left, locking the door behind him.

Finally alone for
the first time in hours, she let her tears fall.

****

Catherine was left
locked up in her room all day.
 

In the afternoon,
a servant came by with a breakfast tray and an etiquette primer.
 
Breakfast was an egg white omelet filled with
vegetables, a glass of orange juice, and a glass of milk.
 
No salt, no butter, and the milk was
one-percent.
 
He wasn’t kidding about her
diet being carefully regulated.
 
Geeze,
it wasn’t like she was fat…most people would even call her skinny!

In spite of
feeling vaguely insulted, she gobbled the food up, then skeptically eyed the
book.
 
It looked old, from the ‘50s or
‘60s, maybe.
 
Sighing, she started to
read, though it wasn’t like she was a cretin, or anything.
 
She knew how to set a table, cross her legs
in a skirt, and not slurp her soup.

At sundown,
another servant came to fetch her.
 

Catherine
followed, nervous about what William would have in store for her.
 
She was led into a small classroom.

“Good evening,
Miss Mitchell.”

“Good evening,
sir.”
 
She took a seat at a desk.

William turned to
a stern-looking elderly woman at his right.
 
“This is Mrs. Crumb. She used to run a finishing school for girls. She
will instruct you how to pass in high society. You will do anything she asks of
you.”

“Yes, sir,”
Catherine said.
 
She felt very lacking
beneath the old woman’s stare.

William
continued.
 
“When you are not with Mrs.
Crumb, you will memorize this book.”
 
He
dropped a large volume on the desk.
 
Zezzik’s
List of Demons A-Z
.
 
“You will be tested on this book in two days.
Every wrong answer will result in a demerit.”

Catherine opened
her mouth to protest, then promptly clamped it shut.
 
She raised her hand and waited to be called
on.

“Yes?”

“Just to clarify,
the whole book, sir?”

“The whole book,
Miss Mitchell.”
 
He smirked when she
dropped her head in despair.
 
“I’ll leave
you in Mrs. Crumb’s capable hands.”

As soon as he left
the room, Mrs. Crumb slapped a ruler on the desk, making Catherine jump.
 
“Sit up, child! A lady never has poor
posture. Where were you raised?”

“In California, by my
grandmother.”

“What was your
economic status?”

“We lived well
enough.”

Mrs. Crumb
frowned, then asked her next question, jotting everything down on a
clipboard.
 
“Years of education?”

“I was in my
freshman year of college until two days ago,” Catherine said with a touch of
bitterness.

“For what
subject?”

“A major in
History with a minor in British Literature.”

“And did you
carouse with the other children?”

“No. I was in
class, or studying, or with my roommate. There isn’t time for anything else if
you want to pass.”

Mrs. Crumb glared
down her nose at her.
 
“I do not like
your tone, Miss Mitchell. Control yourself, or I shall have to inform the
master that you are being belligerent.”

“Yes, ma’am.”
 
Swallowing her pride around this old bat
wasn’t easy.
 
There was something about
her that rankled Catherine’s insides.

“Good. Stand up,
please. The first thing you need to do is learn how to walk.”

She had a fair
idea of what this entailed.
 
Every
American girl had seen something on TV about girls walking with books on their
heads.
 
It wasn’t as easy as it looked,
especially since Mrs. Crumb insisted she walk at a normal pace with the book
balanced.
 
Every time it fell off, the
old woman would snap at her to start again, and again, and again…

After an hour of
that, which had almost brought Catherine to tears, Mrs. Crumb moved on to
something else—proper introductions.
 
Every time Catherine used a slang word, the old bat would slap her on
the arm with the ruler.
 

A new lesson began
on the third hour—lunch.
 

Catherine
discovered the only thing she knew how to do “right” was picking up her
silverware from the outside-in toward the plate.
 
Her wrist wasn’t graceful enough when she
picked up her glass.
 
She cut her food in
bites too large.
 
Then, she ate too
fast.
 
A meal had never been so
excruciating.

For the fourth
hour, they went back to the book trick, only in high heels.
 
Catherine was only ever marginal in walking
in them in the first place, and that was with an inch-and-a-half heel.
 
Mrs. Crumb made her wear a pair at three
inches, and by the end of that lesson Catherine was ready to beat the woman to
death with them.
 
She was never so
grateful to bid a person goodbye when Mrs. Crumb announced their time together
was up.

The next “class”
was a whole new bag.
 
The woman she’d
seen last night, Alicia, came into the room.
 
“Hi! Call me Alicia. I don’t bother with that formal crap. People should
be allowed to speak their minds. Anyway, I’m here to teach you two subjects.
How are you at math, and have you ever had an orgasm before?”

What?
 
“Uh, um, I’m alright at math… Um, why is the
other question important?”

Alicia rolled her
eyes.
 
“Because I’m going to teach you
about sex, silly.”

“I-I’ve had the
sex-
ed
courses at school.”

“Which are
seriously lacking in instructing boys on the female orgasm, I’d say. Have you
had sex?” she asked.

Catherine
blushed.
 
“No… I was waiting for the
right guy.”

“Ohhh, the
romantic
version. Yeah, that doesn’t pan out in real life too often. I could tell you a
story about a goblin… Anyway, since
Tallis
owns you,
you’re going to need to know a lot. He’s over two-hundred years old, you know.”