Isabel and the Werewolf Beast (Vampire Tales #1)

3. Isabel

Chapter three

Isabel

T ime. It was all I had now stuck in the beauty of my castle and the surrounding, once immaculately manicured grounds. Every day was the same. The hallways were empty. The air grew stale as though no one lived in the castle and yet inside the ballroom, the party continued. My guests were stuck inside in an endless loop, not even realizing they had been there for so long. Time had no meaning to them, and yet when I entered the ballroom in need of company, it was as though I’d never left. Their dresses and suits were still pristine. Smiles still in place. Hair twirled into a fancy updo, holding strong even after all this time of dancing at the same party.

I didn’t know what was more infuriating. Wandering the hallways and grounds, trying to find a way out, or dancing nonstop in the ballroom and almost forgetting about the problem. Silas had screwed me over. When I caught up to him… how I imagined in so many vivid, detailed ways I’d kill him, but death would be too quick. Too easy for someone so evil.

My bedroom was a dangerous prison now instead of the opulent suite it once was. Gowns hung in the timber wardrobe collecting dust along with every item in the castle, letting me see the length of time Silas had cursed me to this castle. At least I didn’t suffer hunger as an incorporeal vampire, otherwise I would have eaten the human guests by now. I didn’t bother asking anyone in the ballroom about eating, as they always seemed content. Better to leave them that way than have them in a panic about being stuck in the castle.

Cursed.

As far as curses went, Silas had performed a good job. I hadn’t expected such high skills from him, but then he’d tapped into dark magic so that had probably amped up his power.

I wandered the hallways. Now and then, I’d stop and attempt to touch something, but my hand would ghost through it. Nothing ever changed apart from the dust collecting in the castle. The walls of the castle creaked as though in agreement. Ever since the curse, the castle itself had been a living presence. Items moved daily. One day, the paintings on the third floor were all on the first floor. Another day, the dining room china was stacked in the library. Humans thought ghosts were the ones moving objects, but perhaps a warlock or witch cursed their houses, too. I’d never understand because I was stuck here .

Forever.

I strode outside. At least I had a small amount of freedom compared to the vampires and humans in the ballroom, but they didn’t comprehend Silas had cursed them. There was a difference in not knowing you were trapped. Their faces were always smiling. Their greetings were always happy. I shuddered to think what it would be like if they realized they couldn’t escape that room.

The night air was pleasant, as always. Stars shone in a cloudless sky. The full moon bathed the gardens in a silvery glow. I wandered through the herb garden, wrenching weeds as I walked. It was strange I could touch plants in the garden and not items in the castle, but I’d take whatever contact I’d get. You didn’t truly miss something until it was gone. Touching and being touched was one of those things. I bent and brushed a hand over the basil, breathing in the aroma it released at my touch.

Vampires didn’t eat, but it didn’t mean we didn’t enjoy the scents of food. Whatever food a person ate, flavored their blood. It made hunting more interesting too. We’d search for a certain taste. Some vampires even staked out restaurants when they found a flavorsome blood. Back when I was corporeal, I’d been a frequent consumer of a fruit stand in a little village in France. Those who ate there had the sweetest blood I’d ever tasted. My mouth watered recalling the sensation of feeding. Something I hadn’t done in a long time. My fangs lengthened and descended into my bottom lip. Blood welled to the surface, and I licked it clean before my advanced healing rate sealed the wound.

I was that desperate. I wanted to drink my blood. Just because I didn’t experience hunger didn’t mean I didn’t crave the euphoria of drinking blood. The sensation of my fangs sinking into soft flesh. The pop of blood as it gushed into my mouth and swelled over my tongue.

I plucked a leaf from the mint and lifted it to my nose to stop smelling blood and my unquenchable need for it. Even though I wasn’t hungry and didn’t need the sustenance of blood in this incorporeal form, I still longed to feed. The urge was ingrained in my vampire DNA.

The herb garden path led to the glasshouse. Inside, the mister system was going and spraying a mist over the orchids and lilies. Vibrant blooms of orchids reached from the thick green leaves of the plants. Their faces smiled at me. The lilies were softer in color, their orange-dusted stamens poking from the pointed petals. Fine water droplets landed on my skin and sprinkled on my eyelashes. I blinked them away as I walked through the greenhouse and out the other door. My nightly shower. I laughed to myself, since there was no one around to hear me. I could go inside the ballroom and laugh with the others, but keeping the curse to myself was wearing me down.

How much longer would I bear this burden? I’d put these vampires and people in this position because I’d said no to Silas. Would they understand why? Or would they have wanted me to agree to a blood oath?

I didn’t want to risk them turning on me. For I believed I’d find a cure. Someday. Somehow, I would.