Once Betrayed Never Forgotten

Chapter 77: The King of America

“What have you done, stupid girl?” Anya demands, her eyes blazing with icy rage as they bore into my skull.

me an

I’m so shocked that I’m momentarily unable to speak. Everything happened so quickly–one minute Aleksandr was eating me out and giving me earth–shattering orgasm, then he was on the verge of literally killing me, and now he’s passed out at the foot of the bed while Anya and her servant stand between us, demanding answers. From NôvelDrama.Org.

still totally naked, not a scrap of clothing on me to

“Um, I–we

we were…” I stumble over my words, feeling my cheeks turn bright red as I realise I’m still protect my modesty.

“We know what you were doing, silly.” Seraphina says cheekily, suppressing laughter. “What my mistress wants to know is, why were you doing it?”

“Why…” I repeat her words dumbly, feeling more and more dazed by the moment.

“WHY were you having intimate relations with my son?” Anya snaps, her voice as sharp as steel. “You were expressly forbidden to be together! You know how dangerous it is and this only goes to prove it. What would you have done if we hadn’t come to save you? You’d be dead, you stupid, ignorant, ungrateful child! Don’t you see? Your lust will get you killed!”

“MY lust?” I snap, hurling her words back at her, my anger springing up at the accusation. “What about Aleksandr’s lust? It takes two to tango! You act like I’m son femme fatale out to seduce your son. That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

“Maybe, but it doesn’t change the fact that you are an idiot,” Anya says with a sigh. “You and my depraved son, both. Seraphina, get some clothes on this harlot.”

Seraphina nods, and in the blink of an eye, I feel the familiar sensation of her magic working on me, a soft cooling feeling like being enveloped in spring water or velvet. I look down to see that she’s dressed me in a beautiful long flowing bohemian silk robe, patterned with twining crimson roses over a shimmering gold background. I’m even wearing a pair of blood red silk slippers to match

“Tsk, tsk, tsk – Aleksandr, whatever shall we do with you…” Anya murmurs as she walks over to her son, almost to herself, as she crouches down over

him.

“What exactly did you do to him?” I ask, moving closer to peer at his slumbering form. Even in sleep, he looks powerful and handsome, dangerous and lethal… like he might suddenly spring into action and cause camage at any moment.

“She nulled him,” Seraphina says casually, taking the opportunity to lightly kick Aleksandr’s side at a time when she can’t retaliate.

“Nulled?” I repeat the unfamiliar word. “Am I meant to know what that means?”

““Nullified,” Anya explains airily. “As Aleksandr’s Blood Mother – the vampire who turned him – I have some power over him, through my immortal

blood. The first time he drank my blood it transformed him into what he is now – but thereafter, my blood is like a sort of mild poison for him. If he in a blood rage, overcome with blood lust, it will nullify him, Drinking the blood of one’s Blood Mather or Blood Father will instantly knock one out.”

“Is he in pain?” I ask, trying not to dwell on the fact that Anya s said her blood has literally poisoned him.

“Nope, but he’s going to have one hell of a hangover when he wakes up,” Seraphina says with a small smile. “And he’ll be hungry… guess I’ll have to organise a blood run. Will you have the usual, my lady?”

“Well, as we’re in California, I suppose I’d like to try the local fare–type AB–negative, Hispanic,” Anya says, deep in thought. “I’m sure Aleksandr would enjoy the same. Maybe Italian for him… Italian immigrant, so much flavour. I hear the Italian is very good in California. Have them fulfil the order without delay, I’m famished.”

Type AB–negative… Hispanic, Italian… she’s not putting in a fast food order, she’s talking about blood. OMG.

“I thought the Vasiliev family didn’t kill innocent people for their meals,” I say accusingly, shrinking back

k away from the vampires.

“We don’t,” Anya says pointedly. “We procure all of our sustenance from blood banks. We own one in every major city, and are able to access blood anywhere, any time. Seraphina will be sourcing blood for us via our local agents.”

“Why don’t you just go fetch it yourselves?” I ask, thinking about how all members of the Vasiliev family are able to move with superhuman speed.

“I prefer to keep an air of mystery,” Anya says enigmatically. “And as for Seraphina… well, she’s not too fond of venturing

gout into the outside world.”

“Big groups of humans scare me.” Seraphina says, her eyes clouding over for just a moment, remembering some pain buried centuries ago.

My mind flashes back to what I read in the beautiful old book in the Vasiliev’s library at the Castle of Endless Night the story of how Seraphina came to be a vampire. She, like me, was burned at the stake by a mob of angry humans, and then she was saved and turned by Anya. The same humans that tortured me, imprisoned me, bummed me, in the small village lost in time. She has a good reason to be scared of humans, and suddenly her ignorance about the modern world all makes sense.

No wonder she doesn’t want to go out into the wider world. She may look and act like a child, but she’s lived through terrible pain, enough to traumatise even the bravest soul.

“Still, there are places I’d love to see, things I’d love to do,” Seraphina says, her gaze softening as her voice grows wistful. “I would give anything to go to Disneyland, or see the Grand Canyon, or meet the King of America.”

“We don’t have a King…I point out, as gently as possible. “I think you’re thinking of England,”

“No, the King of America,” Seraphina insists. “He has a magnificent brown beard and wears a golden crown atop his head, and he’s always giving his royal subjects delicious parcels of meat and bread”

Parcels of meat and bread… burgers?

“Um… you mean, the Burger King?” I say, trying to wrap my head around Seraphina not realising that he’s just a fast food chain mascot

“Yes!” Seraphina cries triumphantly, her little face lighting up with glee. “The glorious King of America!”

“Foolish creature,” Anya says, rolling her eyes disdainfully. “We’ve discussed this more times than I care to count. The Burger King is simply a character, a work of fiction, imaginary. He does not exist.”

“Well, most humans think that vampires don’t exist, and look how wrong they are, Seraphina says grumpily. “He could be real. Just because you haven’t personally met him, doesn’t mean he doesn’t exist. And perhaps you haven’t met him because the King has more important things to do than meet some old bloodsucking-”

Anya hisses at Seraphina, warning her to stop, and Seraphina sits down looking downcast, her childish dreams shattered.

“Well,

I, how about this,” I say, crouching down to Seraphina’s level. “When Aleksandr wakes up, we’ll take you there to meet the Burger King. Sound good?”

“You mean it?” Seraphina asks, the light returning to her face, before she turns to address Anya. “Mistress, may 17”

“Very well,” Anya says with a weary sigh. “But place the order for our blood bank dinner first. Aleksandr will be very hungry when he wakes up, We wouldn’t want him attempting to snack on our resident human again, would we?”

Seraphina just nods, all smiles now.

And on cue, Aleksandr begins to stir, moaning softly.

“My f*cking head…” he mumbles as he opens his eyes, sitting up. “What the hell happened?”

“A lot.” I say.

He takes in the sight of Anya and Seraphina in the room with us, and his expression goes hard.

Before he can say anything, Anya holds up her hand to silence him.

“Arianna, Seraphina- leave us,” she says sternly. “Aleksandr and I need to have a little chat.”

Reluctantly, I walk away from the bed, feeling a trickle of anxiety down my spine. We leave the room, and the last thing I see is Aleksandr glaring at his blood mother, seething with supressed rage.

Seraphina closes the door to the master bedroom behind us, and then all hell breaks loose.