“Blood type O positive. Donor number XZ-09-2024.”

The Master of the Vitalis House tapped a finger on his right temple as the butler servant recited.

Sitting on his throne-like chair fronting the grand hall never had been this painful. Parched, very hungry, and almost at his limit, he waited for his servant to finish. The wine flute that contained the delicious crimson liquid was just within his reach.

Just. Within. His. Reach.

Yet he didn’t move a muscle and just waited for the servant to hand it to him.

“Milord, this is the blood that you have been waiting for,” the butler noted, lifting the silver tray nearer.

Amidst seeing nothing other than entire darkness in his front, a small smile grew on his lips.

“At last,” came his reply and with ease, he straightened in his seat and managed to take out the flute from the tray without tumbling it down.

The cold contact of the glass against his warm fingers was a great welcome. It reminded him of the feeling he had in a similar wintry season last year when he held the same container with the same blood flowing with life.

As much as he wanted to drink such precious liquid every day, he couldn’t as the supposed donor opt a yearly donation only, in a blood bank where his butler gets to purchase it. He doesn’t even know whether the donor, who stayed on the opposite side of the world, was a male or a female, but as if that mattered to him.

He smelt it first, tipping the rim of the glass close to his nostrils and instantaneously caught the faint smell of the jasmine leaves mixed inside.

Ahh, what an aroma, his mind confessed and right then and there, ghosted another smile.

He, of all the living and nonliving beings under his wing, was the only one who preferred to have his meal like this - in a wine flute and mixed with jasmine leaves. Atypical for a dark creature like him, yes, but this was the only leisure that he ever preferred since he disliked feeding directly from the humans.

“As indicated in the Red Cross database, the donor decided for two bags this time so you have two days’ supply of the blood Milord,” informed the butler as he watched his Master sip leisurely. One hand was now on the forehead of a fully grown black panther, making doodles while the big cat purred and nudged its cheek against the armrest.

“Good to know, Jerome,” the Master stated with a small nod; his voice in equal parts soporific and velvety. “At least I have two days before my fasting begins again.”

"Right, and I believe you are doing that on purpose?” came out a male voice behind the throne. Immediately, the panther stood on guard, hissing, and growling as it locked its feline eyes on the trespasser.

To give some privacy, the butler dismissed himself, walking out of the dais into a closed door where it led to a huge kitchen.

Though it was without warning, the Master wasn’t at all surprised. He knew exactly who the trespasser was just judging on the sound of his gravelly voice and the foul-stench of dried up blood in the corner of his mouth from a very recent feeding.

“I don’t need to explain myself to you,” was his cool and composed answer. He continued sipping and acting nonchalant all the while his cousin snorted and inched forward in his side.

“Of course, you don’t need to. You are too high and mighty for that,” the man replied, not scared with the black beast at all. He scrunched up his nose and bared his teeth towards the cat momentarily.

The panther didn’t budge. It stayed in a guarded posture and remained standing on all fours.

“You are the Master of the House oh my dear cousin, and I, just your lowly relative,” he continued with a tight smug on his face. “But from what I heard from the rumors, you hate biting the humans. You prefer to drink from blood bags ever since that was invented.”

He paused and strolled in front, waving a hand near the blindfold-wrapped eyes of the Master in the process. When he got no response, he let out another arrogant smug.

“And not only that, you seem to favor one certain source. That makes me wonder why?”

From beneath the blindfold, the Master felt the initial process of regaining a precious faculty owing to the blood he had just ingested. He felt tiny pinprick sensations in his eyelids and then a sharp shooting pain in both the back of his eyes.

Although his cousin couldn’t see, there was a blue glow in his eyeballs that appeared, followed by flashes of gold. By the time it subsided, the Master of the House of Vitalis was restored of sight, but he chose not to pull his blindfold out.

What for when the effects of the miraculous blood wouldn’t last anyway? Why bother fancying oneself of borrowed sight when it was just only temporary?

“Go and wonder other things, Trace. Don’t include me with your childish agendas. I’m not in the mood for that,” he answered coldly just as he usually does to all those around him.

The man named Trace grinned and wrinkled his nose. “Oh, but you are always not in the mood cousin,” he rebuked.

The Master, through the black silk cloth, shot his cousin a murderous glare. “Get out or I’ll throw you where the hellhounds dine,” he ordered whilst curling one fist on the armrest.

The panther growled louder, feeling the Master’s burst of anger.

“Huh,” Trace scoffed. “As if you can do that oh Unseeing One.” He climbed down one step from the dais and gave the Master and the pet a wide grin.

Definitely, it was a mock of the Master’s dire situation but as if that would get him to start a fang fight with his cocky cousin. Instead, he just ignored him and continued on sipping the honey-like blood - a perfect blood he first discovered six years ago.

Luckily, Trace left after a long silence, and with that, finally, he was able to dine in peace - a much-awaited moment indeed.

The Formula One tires screeched against the asphalt as it swerved to the right of the practice track. Then, the same thing happened when it made a hard turn to the left. It became a known cycle of ear-splitting sound for at least ten minutes - a time most car racers deem lengthy for a test drive.

Although it was a cold, gloomy evening, thick, white-to-gray smoke could be seen coming out under the engine of the race car. It wasn’t an alarming sight for the spectators, however. No one wasn’t concerned when they knew who drove the said vehicle. They just watched in awe in the sidelines, watched with complete adoration on the driver pulling the shots.

After about two laps of run, the race car finally stopped directly in its inspection area and out came the one who did it all: a woman, wearing a black full-face helmet and loose jumpsuit of red and white.

The NASCAR mechanics call her, “The Empress Hand, ” owing to her skillful and sometimes believed to be magical-works on busted car engines, but her family normally names her, Amanda Caitlin, a twenty-four-year-old independent, sociable, and health-conscious only daughter of the O’Malley Family.

Whether in or out of her dear stepfather’s company, many admire her not only for the comely, exotic beauty she exuded but also for her activeness in extreme sports and her uncanny knack for all things related to masculine work - engine troubleshooting included.

Had it not for this reason, she would have been in New Zealand still where her stepfather’s main office specializing in motorsports was located. And, had it not been for her gay best friend’s insistence to visit his hometown, she would have been in her apartment, eating her home-made dinner and cuddling her white Persian cat.

“Red Panther is good to go, ” announced she pertaining to the highly-prized vehicle of slick red paint. She took out her helmet and tossed it inside the driver’s seat.

The Head Mechanic, Robert, who directly stood near the engine side nodded. He had a graying hair, an overgrowth of beard and wrinkles in his forehead that was expected of a forty-year-old.

“Yes, many thanks Cait, ” he stated with a pat on her back. “You really have talent on fixing engines.”

“Hmm, that’s the reason why I’m here after all Rob. It’s my job.” She winked at his way and strutted out of the restricted area leaving the man sheepishly tilting his head. It was more of an effect from her charms that’s why he did so, and not because he felt slightly belittled that she did better than him in the mechanical aspect.

“I’m glad we requested the boss to let you travel with us to Spa, Belgium, ” another man said with a hint of an Italian accent.

He stood at the boundary line waiting for Amanda to cross. He was about ten years younger than the Head but has his rightful place in the Company being that he was the Vice President, second to her stepfather, Mr. Arnold O’Malley.

With a copper short hair brushed up neatly to the back, a perfect five o’clock shadow beard, and striking masculine features, he could easily pose as Amada’s boyfriend - if she was even open to the prospect of having one.

“Yeah, and you should thank Noman too because he is a major contributor of me coming here, ” replied Amanda as she unzipped the back of the jumpsuit in the man’s front not caring that many pairs of eyes were still glued on her, his included.

The Vice President, who was named Matteo Nikos Threvelli, cocked a brow. “Where is that gay best friend of yours by the way? I thought he wanted to tour you in his hometown?”

Amanda finished pulling the uniform out of her ankles and stilettos before answering him. She balanced herself against the metal railing not wanting to ask for his help with regards to this aspect. But Matteo was very much willing to if only to play gentleman in front of her. So, without waiting for her to say anything, he helped keep her balance intact by slipping a hand around her waist.

Amanda was unfazed by the intimate contact. She merely owed it to his gentlemanly behavior as had always been for about two years of knowing each other.

“Well, he did, yesterday, immediately after he gave me just four hours of sleep after my twelve hours of flight, ” she answered finally and made a cheeky grin. She handed the uniform to him who in turn handed her the brown leather jacket he had been keeping before the start of the test drive.

“Thanks, ” she said, easily forgetting about the contact of his hand on her waist.

“You’re welcome, ” he nodded appreciatively.

“And now he is in an anniversary party probably grinding his *** off. He wanted me to come saying that this party is one of the most awaited parties every year in this country, but as you can see, ” she paused and gestured to the heavily-spotlighted surroundings of metal benches, race tracks, unused tires, and parked race cars with a wave of a hand and continued, “I’m here, tending to my stepfather’s prized Formula Ones.”

Matteo chuckled at her subtle remark of disappointment.

“Hmm, I can sense that you want to join in that party, ” he cited.

Amanda shrugged her shoulders and adjusted her white V-neck tee. “Well, who wouldn’t be? As per Noman’s claim, it would be a fun night of debauchery.”

The man cocked a brow again. “I thought you disliked such stuff. I don’t see you as a happy-go-lucky woman.”

Amanda puckered her lips and grinned. “Of course I am not like that, but it sure would be interesting to see how it plays out on him.”

“Ha! You really are one of a kind Cait.” His eyes glinted with warmth - a rather quick change from his friendly light earlier. “So, I take it you can have dinner with me tonight? I don’t want to have you returning to your best friend’s unit and eat alone on the couch.”

The latter wasn’t taken aback by his smooth intro of a dinner date. She just gave him a playful brow lift and said, “Hmm, let me se—”

But then her answer was cut off when her cellphone rang and vibrated inside her jeans pocket.

She held a hand up near the face of this six-footer dressed in impeccable clothes and continued, “Wait, I should take this first.”

Matteo nodded and observed her take out the gadget.

“Caitlin O’Malley speaking, ” she answered as soon as the phone touched her ear.

The curve of her smile was clear at first, but then it changed into a thin line. Her brows knitted and she remained silent the whole time the caller reported about her best friend’s state of inebriation.

“Where is that place?” she asked, a sense of urgency coming over her.

The man with a raspy voice on the other side of the line answered concisely including the address and the instructions on how to get there. He even called her ‘Madame’ as if he was like someone of the olden days.

“Alright, I’ll be there in twenty minutes, ” Amanda replied, sure to herself, amidst the fact that she was unfamiliar with the Belgian streets.

“What happened Cait?” asked Matteo as soon as she cut the call.

Amanda huffed. “This is a world record. Noman just found himself already intoxicated early in the night!”

Matteo’s deep chuckle followed. “Wow. That is not a surprise.”

“Oh com’n Matt, give my best friend some credit, ” she slapped his shoulder playfully. “He ain’t that stupid to be in that situation easily.” She tucked her cellphone back in her pocket and raced to leave the grease-splattered waiting area.

Matteo followed closely behind her.

“Let me drive you there, ” was his immediate offer, hoping she would agree. “I don’t want you riding a taxi.”

Amanda stopped and turned to face him. “So kind of you Matt, but do you know where the place is?”

“What’s the name and address of the house?” he inquired instantly.

“House of Vitalis, Libree Road, ” she answered, crossing her arms over her well-endowed chest.

Matteo smiled wildly. “Then, there’s no problem. People who had been in Belgium before knows where that castle is, I myself included.”

“Wait, what? A castle?!” Amanda’s eyes widened.

“Yes, a castle Cait. I haven’t been inside because it is a restricted place, but every year the Vitalis Family opens up their doors to invite the more esteemed of the population for an anniversary party.”

“Wow, that’s typical, ” she commented and rolled her eyes, thinking of Noman and how he pulled strings to be able to get inside. He wasn’t exactly included in the ‘most esteemed’ part of the society being that he was just a budding professor of a famous university in New Zealand and the youngest of a family of teachers. He wasn’t exactly in the super-rich and famous list.

“Now, should we go?” Matteo grabbed his car key from the pocket of his slacks and drew it up to their front.

“Yes, yes, I think we should, ” Amanda bobbed her head, “but only if you tell me what you know about this Vitalis Family.”

***

And so Matteo did, during their travel to Libree Road, which specifically consisted of zero. He admitted to his inadequate knowledge about the Vitalis Family and reasoned because the family was just too private of their lives. No one knew actually of the Vitalis Family history except those who were close to them and by close, meant the family members and first-degree relatives themselves.

Instead of this topic, Matteo took advantage of the opportunity and rushed to cultivate more of Amanda’s love life. The latter however kept herself reserved and eluded the man’s questioning rather skillfully explaining she was just too busy to even welcome suitors.

Once the second topic was dropped, Amanda diverted her attention to the landscape seen through her side of the window.

It was a beauty. Trees after trees were everywhere looking like one mass of black clump against the moonlit sky. This part of the region, many called provincial-looking, and Amanda could very well guess that riding a taxi coming here would be utterly difficult.

“Thank you by the way for accompanying me, Matt, ” she expressed whilst looking at him and noticing how adeptly he drove his newly bought black Aston Martin.

Matteo curved a smile. “No problem, Cait. It is my pleasure.” Although a little bit let down of the way his wooing of her went, he still cherished the fact that they were together.

“We are here, ” he announced, gradually slowing his car to a narrow road that led all the way to the enormous castle stonewall.

“Wow, ” was the only expression Amanda could make as she stared through the windshield.

There lacked a moat, standard towers, and a drawbridge but calling the building a castle was correct in every aspect. It looked like two massive white mansions joined in one.

They drove inside the front courtyard, passing through the already open thick iron-wrought gate.

Amanda’s sense of sight underwent a fiesta whilst looking at how the colorful strobe lights sliced through the darkness of the night. It danced all the way to the cloudy sky in time with the loud, head-thudding techno music.

Metallic, sequined, fluffy, lacy, feathery, and almost all manners of clothing and appliqués could be seen everywhere worn by different races and genders of guests around the mansion; dancing, eating, or whatever hullabaloo they were doing.

It was a real sight to see.

And to think this was just the courtyard alone. How much more the inside of the castle?

A number of valets awaited them as the car neared. All of these men had tidy, brushed-up hair and ramrod straight backs, standing on top the wide marbled stairs of the front arched portico. In their middle stood the oldest man, donning on a complex piece of butler outfit complete with white gloves and a tailcoat.

Though she had a few words popping out of her mind, Amanda was just too dumbstruck to even audibly comment on how staged and stiffly-organized the whole welcome scene was. She eyed Matteo with one brow lifted and the latter just gave her a lopsided smile.

Both had seen high-class parties in New Zealand and in other parts of the world during their car race travels, but not like this one that was too over-the-top.

“Here we are, ” he announced, putting the Aston in a complete stop.

“So it looks.” Amanda resisted rolling her eyes.

Swiftly, two men descended from the stairs. One man wearing a gray tux accepted the car key when Matteo handed it to him after he disembarked the car while another man wearing the same look of uniform assisted Amanda out of the vehicle.

“Thanks, ” she said but was cut off with her planned intro speech when the same raspy voice from before greeted.

“Welcome to the Vitalis Estate, Madame O’Malley.”

Amanda stared at the one man different from the rest with enough wonder.

“I am Jerome Gagllaher, Head Majordomo of the Vitalis Family, at your service.”

The man perfected a regal bow in front of the two as if he was a master of all things related to subservience.

Amanda, in effect, attempted a poor half-body bow and said, “You must be the one who called me earlier.”

“Yes, Madame, it is I, ” Jerome answered when he straightened, looking at her and then to Matteo who just briefly dipped his head on his way. “Come and follow me. I shall take you to Mr. Asghar’s quarters now.”

Amanda cocked a brow, surprised.

“You placed my best friend in a guest room?”

The Head Majordomo nodded. “It is imperative that we do so, Madame. Your best friend’s state might cause worry to the other guests.”

“Oh, I don’t think that being drunk causes that, ” Amanda rebutted just as she climbed the wide stairs.

“True, ” was his clipped but rather secretive reply, and because of this, she couldn’t help but feel something was amiss with his sudden lack of explanation.

The butler turned around and gestured for the heavy oak entrance doors. “This way please.”

Amanda just nodded, letting the oddity of his words slip away.

“Noman is just fine Cait. Probably he just had too much to drink, ” Matteo assured, patting a hand on the small of her back on their way into the main foyer. At least this way, he was able to tell her that he was still by her side, accompanying her and not just a silent audience.

Amanda smiled fleetingly at him and answered, “Oh God, I hope so, Matt. I really hope so.”

“Why did the butler call you instead of his family by the way?” Matteo inquired as they stepped inside the castle.

“Well, Noman has an emergency calling card in his wallet. My phone number is conveniently supplied there, ” she answered and then released a sigh. “And besides, his parents are in Pakistan for a vacation and what little family and relatives he has in this country, he didn’t add their numbers in the card. He probably doesn’t want to bother them especially just because of a simple reason as getting drunk. We have both each other to take care of during these times of...wow, ” Amanda trailed off and gaped openly at the spectacular sight before her.

The main foyer looked otherwordly. It was huge and spacious, boasting high ceilings and towering white marble columns. Six massive Murano glass chandeliers were hung to enliven the pearl white ceilings. Black smooth tiles were set as flooring. One grand staircase was visibly carpeted with maroon and gold cloths. Its curvaceous balustrade separates and branches into two more wide staircases of the same carpet towards the upper floor.

Furniture of largely Victorian designs could be seen, used by some guests lounging in this part of the castle. Tapestries of the Vitalis coat of arms were hung on the walls. It looked like a cross between a lion and an eagle, with the sun and the moon as its background and a sword and spear to accompany it. Paintings and pictures were hung too, of landscapes and possibly faces of the members of the super-rich family.

Amanda had not seen such extravagance like this one ever before, even for a woman who had been through a lot. Everything just bordered on the ridiculous.

“Wow, ” Matteo followed her expression too, awed by the sight as they continued their way up the grand staircase. “No wonder everyone wants to join this party.”

“And you will be welcomed to join too, Milord, ” the Head Majordomo chimed over his shoulder, “Once the matter about Madame O’Malley’s friend is taken care of.”

Matteo immediately shook his head not because he wanted to correct the given appellation but to refuse the servant’s good-natured invitation, “Ah, thank you for the invite but I will have to pass Mr. Gagllaher. I still have other business to attend to this evening.”

The butler nodded once and turned his sights on Amanda. “And Madame O’Malley too?” he asked. “You will be most welcome to stay.”

The one addressed gave a sure shake of her head. “I’m here for my best friend first, Sir. His welfare is my priority.”

“Of course Madame, I understand, ” the butler resigned.

In one of the rooms in the east wing, they entered after a five-minute walk along the spacious corridors of the castle. This part of the building seemed off-limits since there weren’t any guests lounging around.

Leaving Matteo and the butler near the room’s chaise lounge, Amanda quickly went to her best friend’s side when she saw him unconscious, sweaty and red-faced, lying on the queen-sized mattress. His metallic purple long-sleeved shirt was open to the belly, tiny bruises of red and blue-violet could be seen in his chest and neck, and an unusual black discoloration was clear on his left wrist.

He reeked of alcohol, strongly, and some other substance Amanda could only guess was a party drug.

“Goodness, you really have outdone yourself this time now huh, Dom?” she whispered as she brushed a curly lock from his mass of blacks.

Noman’s well-shaved brows flinched as if he knew of his best friend’s presence.

Amanda produced a tiny smile, relieved that his state wasn’t as bad as she feared it was.

“I reckon I have new guests in my house, Jerome?” a voice so silvery, so low sounded from the bedroom door without warning that all of the occupants of the room turned an immediate ear.

Matteo shot a look at the intruder and so did Amanda who, for some reason, felt a sudden chill at the soles of her feet upon seeing the man.

It was the Master of the castle - the Vitalis Master - standing with an aura of superiority. Together with him was a black panther who took a guarded stand near him, looking every bit a hungry predator to Amanda and Matteo.

The Head Majordomo swiftly executed another perfect bow, lower than earlier, as if he wasn’t at all concerned with the beast. “Master Cord, yes, you do have two. These are Mr. Asghar’s friends here to take care of him, ” he responded with great care.

“Hmm, I sense it so, ” was the Master’s cool reply, but Amanda thought it odd.

Sense?

She diverted her attention from the animal to him and unconsciously gulped, feeling this new man’s eyes nailed on her amidst the fact that he wore a blindfold.

Her heartbeat sped, not because of his presence, but how intimidating he looked, holding a heavily engraved silver cane and wearing a white half-open button shirt, black slacks, and black trench coat.

This man is the Master of the House?

He looked an inch taller than Matteo. Self-assured, aristocratic-looking, with a body built and facial features five times better. He had a sexy unkempt hair of dark brown to black that Amanda would have thought it cut short if not for a long rattail kept loosely with a thin band and draped on his broad shoulder. Better. Better than any other man could pull off. He seemed to be Matteo’s age, or maybe even a year older.

While shamelessly ogling, she saw a brief twitch from the corner of his mouth and then followed by a clench of his jaw.

“I apologize for the circumstances that had befallen on your friend, Miss...”

“Amanda Caitlin O’Malley, my liege, ” the butler supplied thoughtfully.

“Yes, Amanda, ” the Master continued, highlighting that one name only. “My relatives have thrown this party. I permitted them to do so under the understanding that no one shall be harmed under the roof, yet here is Mr. Asghar, all wasted...in more ways than one.”

His face dipped briefly to the unconscious man as if showing that he knew where he lay even with the blindfold on.

Amanda’s cheeks burned, not in anger but in disappointment of how strongly he affected her just by saying the disliked name.

Yes, she hated being called ‘Amanda’, but she couldn’t say that to him, unfortunately.

“People get drunk, Mr. Vitalis, that is a known fact by all. You don’t need to apologize at all, ” Amanda confidently answered.

“Yes, that is...true, ” the Master replied. “But considering the circumstances, I suggest Mr. Asghar stays in this room until the morrow. I do not want you or your friend bothering his sleep just to bring him home. Let the man rest.”

Amanda lifted a brow. “Kind of you to offer that, Mr. Vitalis. You care too much for a drunk man. I can’t help but think there is more to my best friend's story than your butler initially reported, ” she stated, no hesitation at all. Of course, the bruises in Noman’s chest and neck looked alarming but she could always connect it to hickeys. The discoloration in his wrist seemed unusual, however, and that was what made Amanda question the story.

The Master didn’t look bothered by her words at all. If anything, he stayed still and composed and even smirked a little towards her way.

Amanda felt unusually violated by that.

“You could always ask your friend once he wakes up, ” was his simple reply.

“And she will, Mr. Vitalis, ” Matteo cut in, making his presence known. “Good evening by the way.” He dipped his head still even when the Master didn’t look his way. “I am Ms. O’Malley’s friend, Matteo Nikos Threvelli. On behalf of her and Noman, I would like to thank you for your show of concern, but I believe it is up to Caitlin if she wants for her best friend to stay the night here.”

“That is not a topic worth contemplating over, Amanda’s friend, ” the Master stated, not even using Matteo’s given name. “My relatives’ guests are mine too and it is my responsibility to see to their needs. Let Mr. Asghar stay here. I don’t accept objections.” Then, with a lift of his cane towards Amanda, he continued, “You can stay here too if you so wish.”

“I will, ” was Amanda’s quick reply. “For my friend and not for the party.”

“Of course, ” the Master’s smirk widened, “such a thoughtful friend you are.”

If Amanda didn’t know better, she would have thought that he was pleased with her staying inside the castle.

“Do you think it wise Cait?” Matteo inquired, walking towards the mattress. “I can always drive the two of you back to the apartment.”

“No, ” Amanda shook her head, “it is convenient this way. It is less hassle and Dom gets to sleep straight. You know how cranky he is when his sleep gets cut off.”

Matteo sighed in defeat and eyed the Master and his butler who both listened to their conversation.

“Very well, ” he announced, “but call me in case you change your mind.”

“I will, ” Amanda awarded him a grateful smile.

“I will prepare a room for you then, Madame O’Malley, ” the butler offered, but Amanda quickly raised a hand up.

“No, please, don’t bother. It is obvious that this castle can accommodate hundreds of people, but I prefer to stay by my best friend's side, to sleep next to him that is.”

“As you wish Madame, ” Jerome answered. He dipped his head briefly, placed an arm near his belly as any butler would, and waited for his Master’s command, but he didn’t get any.

“A pleasant evening to both of you. I will be on my study, Jerome, ” the Master announced, turned heels, and then ambled out of the threshold waiting not for any response from those addressed.

The panther however didn’t follow him. It had another plan in mind. It sprinted forward and crossed the space towards Amanda’s feet.

She, together with Matteo and the butler, gasped. The Master quickly turned his head on her way sensing what the animal had just done.

“Shhhsh...shhh, easy boy, ” Amanda expressed with shaking lips and her hands high up in surrender. She was downright afraid that the predator neared her. She honestly thought it would attack, but to her surprise, it just nudged its head against the underside of her thigh, groaning and purring.

“Shall I pull the panther out Milord?” Jerome offered intuitively, looking at his Master’s way.

Cord squeezed the head of his cane. “No, you don’t need to. She won’t be mauled. My pet likes her. Surprisingly.”

Amanda, after hearing that, slowly placed a hand on the panther’s forehead. “This is...unexpected, ” she remarked, growing a small smile on her face.

Matteo just stood still, but ready to jump if and when the animal would turn against her.

“Come to me...” Cord muttered and with that, the panther immediately left Amanda’s side to her and the others’ relief. “Once again, I bid you good night, ” he stated and went out of the room with, finally, the animal in tow.

Amanda inhaled deeply and for the third time, raised a brow.

“Your Master doesn’t have a human being to accompany him while walking? Only a big cat?” she inquired once the receiving room’s door closed, slightly intrigued by this rich and powerful man’s circumstances.

“No Madame, he doesn’t need one, ” the Head Majordomo answered, still standing near the threshold. “And the panther is just his pet. It isn’t his aid. He is...more than capable of walking by himself even with his blind state.”

“Wow, what a resilient man. He seriously should give an inspirational talk to blind and disabled persons.”

Jerome suppressed a chuckle. “I assure you, Madame, he wouldn’t fit that because my Master is no disabled man.”

What he meant by that, Amanda couldn’t piece out. She just shoved all conversations in the back of her head once he and Matteo left an hour later after their dinner.

Yes, dinner.

Even though they were there for a different reason, the butler still invited them to sample the party’s cuisines and wines.

Although reluctant, Amanda agreed, knowing that they had a long day in the race circuit. To dine and relax a little wouldn’t hurt, especially when it was a well-deserved one.

But during her time eating in the garden, Amanda couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable. It was as if she had captured someone’s attention more than just the sense of sight alone. She had experienced men ogle her countless of times and for various reasons. She cared none of it. This time however was different. It affected her so much it brought a tremble to her bone.

Unluckily for her, it persisted until she lay in bed next to her still-asleep best friend.

To remedy it, she opened the only balcony Noman’s chamber had to let in the noisy techno sound, just so it could drive the unwelcomed feeling away.

And it did, temporarily, until sleep beckoned her.

“Cord, your lip is bleeding.”

A white-haired man informed, staring at the sliced bottom lip with worry. He inched forward and took out a handkerchief from his jacket in the hopes of wiping the dripping blood from the Master’s chin but he only waved him off.

“No, leave it, ” the Master answered as if he saw his right-hand’s intent. Blood continued to trickle down his chin and because of that, he swiped a finger along it and licked clean the sticking liquid with his tongue. “My fangs are behaving badly. Shit, it wants to sink in that woman’s flesh.”

“Hmm, you had already restrained yourself for many a year, why break that now? What changed?” the man stepped down the dais, tucked back his handkerchief inside his jacket, and lowered his body to sit in a sofa provided for him.

“What changed is that woman’s blood, Calvin. She is the owner of those blood bags I crave so much, ” Cord’s tongue darted out and swept the wounded lip in one go.

The one named Calvin lifted a brow. “How can you be so sure?” he asked, enjoying the sight before him. It was not always that he gets to see the Vitalis Master agitated and hassled. He had perfected a poker face for over a millennium, to see a little bit of unraveling was a rare sight to say the least.

“Her scent and how I feel our blood boils in sync, that’s how sure I am, ” Cord replied. “Even now...” he trailed off, lifting his chin and inhaling deeply, “with her this near me.”

The throne-like hall was located on the same floor as where Noman and Amanda stayed. A few twists and turns of the hallways may be present, but it was still close enough for him to catch her honeysuckle scent of blood. It was intoxicating his sense of smell.

“Woah, now those are words I hadn’t heard from you ever. Do you feel a strong connection with her?” Calvin dug deeper, lighting a cheroot already secured in between his lips with his personal lighter.

“No. Why would I?” Cord immediately replied with his brows knitted. “But her blood, ****, it sings to me.” He clenched his fists against the armrest and controlled the fangs from extending even longer.

Calvin grinned. “From the looks of things, you really are restraining yourself cousin.”

“True, ” Cord nodded once. “I almost crawled on her last night... Almost tasted her flesh.”

The latter shrugged his shoulders. “Sounds like a typical vampire dilemma.”

“I am no vampire, ” Cord corrected.

“In denial again? Huh!” Calvin puffed out smoke from his nostrils and shook his head. “How many times have I heard those words?”

The Master clenched his jaw, irked. “Why do you use that wretched name anyway? Vampires are mere imaginative creations of humans based on an inconsistent bloody tale. We are nothing like them.”

Calvin shrugged his shoulders and crossed his leg on the other. “I use that word because it’s cool and because humans got at least two about us right, ” he answered initially. “And those are that we drink blood and we fear the sun. Well, except a certain someone that is, ” he hinted. “And oh! Don’t forget about humans calling us beautiful creatures, ha!”

The smugness in Calvin’s voice produced a twitch in the Master’s cheek.

“Calvin, you better return to your coffin now. It is almost dawn, ” he reminded, daring him. It was after all every vampire’s fear - to be greeted by the sun and die - but to Cord, he was immune to it. One of the many reasons why he still denied his dark nature.

“Ugh, I don’t sleep in a coffin, you know that, ” Calvin scrunched up his nose, the thought of even lying in one repulsed him.

“Neither do I, my cousin, ” Cord smirked.

And so, the latter stood up. He dusted the cigar ashes that had clung in his stylish coat and raised his head up. “You know what, a piece of advice, ” he started, “if you don’t want to revert back into your old self, get that woman away from you as soon as possible.”

Unconsciously, the image of Amanda flashed before Cord: her soul-searching brown-violet eyes, her long, sun-kissed beach hair, and the slenderness of her limbs and neck - most especially her neck. It got him on edge, but he cleared his throat and stated without missing a beat, “I will. That’s not a problem at all.”

Calvin grinned, believing him without hesitation. “Have a great day, cousin, ” he said and left the hall and its Master with bored strides.

On his way out of the double doors, he met another ‘vampire’ he knew so well: Trace, not because he was a cousin of Cord in the father’s side, but because he spelled of everyday trouble.

They acknowledged each other eye-to-eye, but neither of them dipped their heads or made a smile.

The double doors closed and Trace approached the dais.

“It is almost dawn, do you really have to call for me?” he stressed when he stopped near the sofa. He looked disheveled: his black shaggy hair tousled in every direction, kiss marks blotting his porcelain skin, and his dapper clothes uneven from partying the whole night in the courtyard.

Of course, Cord couldn’t see those, but Trace’s voice was enough to crack a look of displeasure from him. At least with his cousin’s arrival, his fangs have retracted and allowed the bleeding of his lip to stop and the wound to heal.

“Trace, do I have to clean up every mess you make?” Cord stated, his voice a little more of a growl.

“I don’t make a mess, ” was the other’s nonchalant answer.

“Oh, and what of that gay human?” the Master rebutted.

Trace let out an amused burst of laughter, remembering Noman. “Hmft! The squealer?”

Cord’s expression remained neutral, unreadable, but in truth, he was fuming inside. “You know that was not just a case of drunkenness. Do you really have to harm that man?” he asked, keeping acid in his words in the safe limits.

“He struggled when I bit him, ” Trace flipped a hand midair. “Almost alarmed the other guests. I couldn’t stand it so I had to do drastic measures.”

Though Trace couldn’t see, under the blindfold, Cord pressed his eyelids a little harder, angered by his words.

“I permitted you and your family a party. If you want to wallow in mortal blood, fine with me, but do your fucking business elsewhere! I can’t have a corpse in my estate. It raises suspicions which I - no - we can’t afford!”

And then it happened, Trace’s shadow and the nearby ones in the dais and sofa created by the excessive candle-lit chandeliers reacted in an unearthly way. Looking like blank ink with a consistency of oil, they crawled up to Trace’s legs and incapacitated him. Electric shocks like lightning severed his veins and this made him kneel on the marbled ground like a repentant sinner.

“Shit, argh!” he cried out, a sound, which for a greater part, Cord had delighted once upon a long time. He heaved and struggled to put air into his lungs, not because he wanted the life-sustaining oxygen, but because he wanted to block the pain.

Yes, pain. Dark creatures like him actually experience pain amidst a walking corpse.

And yes, air. Dark creatures like him actually still required to breathe.

In a heartbeat, the shadows disappeared along with the torturous sensation. Cord lifted it, remembering this one simpleton of a man as still his relative.

“Lucky for you, Calvin was there to stop you. Otherwise, I won’t take your transgression lightly, ” he said.

“I know! ****, I get it!” Trace strongly spat out, lifting his face up and giving the Master of the House unconcealed murderous glares.

“Get out, ” Cord ordered through clenched teeth to which Trace immediately did but not without shouting in his head.

“Tsk, fucking blind bastard!”

To stop his palms from trembling, he clenched them fully and hurried out of the hall without ever looking back.

In the throne-like chair, Cord released a deep breath to free all the pent up stress his cousin had caused. Such punishments were bound to happen, he knew that for a fact, but all this time, he had refrained from doing that. Since he had thrown his old self aside, he had taken upon himself to be as indifferent as possible... for his benefit and for the others.

The welfare of that woman’s friend didn’t matter to him really. Heck, not one bit of care sparked in him towards that gay human.

But the woman...

Amanda.

Throw her into the equation and his carefully-erected mask cracks.

“You really know how to cause a ruckus, my cousin, ” Cord whispered to himself. He heard the double doors tightly shut and then followed by another one opening on his far left - the servant’s door particularly.

“But then again, actually, I should be thanking you for doing what you did last night.”

He then pressed his index finger on his bottom lip and ghosted a dark smile knowing that his wine flute full of Amanda’s donated blood was on the way, brought by his most loyal butler.

“Otherwise, I wouldn’t have found that woman.”

***

The blind Vitalis Master really intrigued Amanda, but to dig deeper on that wasn’t in her list when she had a best friend to take care of.

She had had a very good sleep the entire night, well... much lesser if she had to count the gnawing feeling that she was being scrutinized inside out while asleep. She tossed and turned and almost hit Noman in the groin for being so damn uncomfortable for the first few hours of shutting her eyes.

Noman’s incessant complaint first thing in the morning was what woke her up.

“Shit my head.” Still closing his eyes, he massaged his temple and groaned audibly.

Amanda blinked twice and adjusted to the dots of morning light that came through the thick curtains.

“Hmm, Dom? You’re awake?” she turned to the other side with her left elbow supporting her weight and caught sight of her best friend in still the same clothes he wore last night. She had hers too, minus the brown leather coat and dark blue jeans, only wearing her V-neck tee and a gray boy short panty.

Noman popped one eye on her way. “Yeah, I am, and I would have squealed after seeing you with me in this bed if not for this hangover headache.”

He winced again, clenched his teeth, and hardened his temple massages. “Urgh, hey, we didn’t have sex last night right?”

Although beet red, Amanda’s expression turned one of exasperation.

“Idiot! Of course, we didn’t!”

She pulled a nearby pillow from the headboard and hit Noman with it.

The latter timely blocked it and commented with a gagging action in his mouth, “Oh good, because I’d surely vomit if we did.”

“Do you remember what happened to you last night?” Amanda, after rolling her eyes, changed the subject completely.

Still sleepy, Noman looked at her and grinned. “Pshhh, well, yeah! I joined the flippin’ greatest party of my life!”

Amanda straightened and sat against the headboard and stacked pillows, acting confident amidst her lack of clothing in front of Noman. The duvet stayed low, covering her ankles and toes.

“Yeah, I know that already, ” she said and then twisted to pull his right wrist, “but this?” she held it up, “and those?” she pointed her eyes towards the visible bruises in his chest and neck with suspicion and continued, “What do you make of it?”

Noman, now fully wide awake, examined the telltale signs of his escapade last night and awarded her a sloppy smile, “Uhh, these are nasty kiss marks? And this...” he wriggled his wrist and went from being sure to confused, “I...really don’t know.”

Amanda narrowed her eyes at him and released his wrist. “That’s weird, ” she said, her suspicion increasing, “but you do feel fine right?”

Noman slumped back on his side of the mattress, closed his eyes, and massaged his head again. “Give me Advil and a glass of orange juice and I’ll be fine.”

“Hmph, you know I can’t bring you those right?” Amanda questioned, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Huh? Why so?”

“Because, my dear Professor, we are still in the Vitalis Mansion, ” she informed.

“Oh my God, what!?” The surprised Noman shot up with an open mouth and wide eyes. He scanned the room, from the mattress they were in to the intricately designed walls and furniture.

Amanda giggled. “Huh, you really are still disoriented if you can’t even notice the differences between your room back in the apartment and this...princess chamber, ” she remarked haughtily.

“Oh goodness, Cait! What are you waiting for?! Take a picture of me in this bed now!” Noman hurriedly grabbed his cellphone protruding in his pants pocket and shoved it in her chest.

Amanda lazily took it and swiped the screen.

He righted his garments, poised like the Vogue model, Candice Swanepoel, and puckered his lips.

Click. Click. She photographed in an angle like how he taught her months ago.

“And there, take a picture of me there!”

Noman jumped out of bed and posed, doing a leg split in the chaise lounge a few feet away from Amanda.

But before she could capture a photo, his eyes popped, sprang to his feet, and ran all the way from the chaise to the other side of the room where it led to the closed balcony area.

“What? This room has a balcony too?” he exclaimed, shoving the thick curtains to the side. Light instantly spilled from the outside, dispersing some of the shadows of the room.

Amanda winced from the sudden light change.

“Take a picture of me there too, Cait!” Noman pointed outside and then left the glass door towards where Amanda sat, snickering, and pulled her right hand up to his cheeks.

“Oh God! Pinch me! I am not dreaming am I?” he asked with hopeful eyes.

Amanda tried to hide her laughter. “No, you aren’t Dom. Not at all.”

“Ohh...” his eyes, if it was possible, even widened with that fact. “Oh yes!”

“Hmmm, I see that you are well and good, Mr. Asghar?” that molten-hot voice that Amanda knew so well even in just overnight sounded through the door.

Swiftly, both she and Noman turned to the source and saw the Master of the House already one step inside from the threshold of the bedroom door; a step closer than he had been last night, but a safe distance still. And once again, he had his pet with him.

How? How could they have not noticed him? How could they have not noticed the opening of the door? Or was it even closed in the first place?

“I...I...” Noman stammered, looking rather ashen. He shot Amanda a silent plea and then quick as a wink, jumped behind her.

Amanda understood Noman’s cowering state. Although an animal lover, she was well aware he was afraid of the Master’s pet panther looking every inch a predator.

But this wasn’t her main concern at all.

She, who was still sitting in bed, felt cognizant of her state since, after all, she was still in her boy shorts. Her slender legs looked mighty fine against the sheets; her fair skin complementing the fabric like she was meant to stay there.

Although she felt the beginnings of a blush, she blinked fast and inhaled deeply, realizing her feeling of embarrassment unnecessary when in fact the man was blind. He wouldn’t be able to see just how sexy she looked in her morning hair and lack of clothing.

“He is Mr. Vitalis, ” came her courageous voice, “but you are scaring him.”

Cord lifted a brow, taken aback. “I am?”

“Yes, you are, standing suddenly in that opening without even so much as a knock on the door or a sound of your boot. And of course, with your pet beside you.”

Not to mention your eye-catching blindfold and wearing your ominous black trench coat so early in the morning, she wanted to add those but refrained. To test the patience and hospitality of the host wouldn’t be a good attribute.

Cord this time lifted his chin and curved a little smile directly on her way. “I am the Master here, I do as I please.”

“So it looks, ” Amanda rebutted, flushed.

Just as she did last night, she oddly felt he was looking right through that bloody hell of a blindfold, straight to her... straight to her inviting form in a mattress that needed a blessing of moans, grunts, and mixed heavy breaths.

“Excuse my interruption Master Cord. I have what you ordered, ” and cue in the butler. As always, he perfected a low bow, clad in his well-ironed suit.

Amanda, realizing another man, though old, had entered the chamber, clutched the duvet immediately, and hid her waist and legs under.

“Give it to Mr. Asghar, ” ordered the Master, his face still locked on Amanda.

“As you wish, ” Jerome answered in a soft voice and then gestured for an old maid in his side to hand over the silver tray.

“What is that?” asked Amanda when he entered the room and approached the still-silent but observant Noman.

“It is Advil and a glass of orange juice, Madame O’Malley, ” informed he.

“Wow, amazing, exactly just as what I said earlier, ” Noman stated just as he reached for the two objects in the tray. He looked at his best friend and sent her silent eye signals of surprise. “Uh, thank you, Mister...”

“My apologies, ” the butler cut in, “I hadn’t introduced myself. I am Jerome Gagllaher, Head Majordomo of this castle, and the personal butler of the Master of the House.”

He moved his right hand sideways and gestured for the blindfolded man.

“The one standing near the threshold is Master Rexco—”

“Pleasantries is not needed Jerome, ” Cord interjected swiftly. “Bring in their breakfast so that they can get on their way.”

Without a thought, Jerome bowed his head and left after saying, “As you wish, Sire.”

Amanda didn’t know where the courage came from, but this made her strike a blow. “You in a hurry to kick us out of your mansion, Milord? We are commoners after all. Too much of a bother to you. I don’t mind leaving without breakfast, and I think Dom has the same sentiment. You, accommodating us for the night is already enough.”

Noman’s mouth dropped.

Cord’s neutral lips curved upward again. “Hmm, such a spitfire you are.” He succeeded a step closer with his cane wanting to bask in her scent more but halted. Abruptly. He clenched the gold handle of his cane with a quarter of his unnatural strength and continued, “But yes, I am in a hurry to kick you out of my house, but not for the reasons you think.”

Amanda clutched the duvet even more. This time, now, she felt ***** in front of him.

What was he saying anyway?

“You’re presence...torments me, Amanda, ” he confessed.

Her heartbeat double worked making her furrow her brows. She disliked such a reaction he had aroused in her.

“Ho-how so...?” despite her boldness, her voice stammered.

“Crimson red, ” was the only words he could make before turning around to face the door and pausing, “Goodbye and have a pleasant day ahead.”

Frowning, Amanda watched him leave with the stride of a man born with unquestionable command and power. She didn’t answer anymore. She stayed silent until he and his panther were no longer in sight. If they were playing charades, she would have accepted his vague words, but shit, it left her hanging. Empty in the end.

Again. What the **** was he talking about anyway?

Jerome entered the bedroom again with two maids in tow. In their hands, they held two silver trays full of food and drinks. In a nearby coffee table, they set those up while Jerome stood at the foot of the bed.

“Any other things you need Madame? Mr. Asghar?” he asked, mindful of their needs.

“No, we are good Sir Jerome, thank you, ” was Amanda’s composed answer. She glanced at Noman who in turn nodded at her.

“Master Cord has arranged for a vehicle to drive the two of you to your destination. It will wait in the front portico, ” he informed.

“That isn’t really necessary, we can always call Uber, but tell your Master that we are grateful, ” she answered again, gone was her spunk earlier. Why would she stay on guard when her source of threat had left?

“I will Madame O’Malley. Enjoy your breakfast, ” Jerome replied, made another bow, and turned around to leave.

The moment the bedroom was vacated, Noman jumped out of the mattress again and approached the coffee table. He placed the half-finished glass of orange juice in one of the trays and sat on a square-shaped sofa.

“Damn, I’m hungry, ” he declared whilst picking a silver fork to pierce a generous-sized Hungarian sausage.

Once done, he narrowed his eyes at the silent Amanda and bobbed his head. “Uhh, what was that just now?”

Amanda arched her brow at him. “What? The butler?” she asked, genuinely innocent.

“No! The butler’s Master!” Noman shouted. “That hot male specimen!”

“Hmm, what about him?” She stood up and joined him, sitting opposite on another square-shaped sofa.

“Uh, hello Cait? Short-term memory again?” he flagged the half-eaten Hungarian sausage in her front. “Your presence torments me. Crimson red, ” he echoed, mimicking the rich voice of the Master. “Does that ring a bloody ****** bell?”

“Oh, that, ” Amanda dipped her eyes on the large piece of bacon and buttered baguette, hiding the brief red hue in her face.

“Yes, that!” Noman proclaimed. “There is something going on between the two of you. I need details. Now.”

“Nothing is going on between the two of us, ” she replied point-blank, now chewing on the bacon. “I just met the rude guy last night because of you.”

Noman pursed his lip and lifted a diva brow. “Spill the beans, Cait, or I’ll stuff this Hungarian sausage in your mouth, full!”

No one could ever calm a thrashing Noman and Amanda knew that. She knew that he would never drop the subject, ever, so she raised her hands up in surrender.

“Okay! Okay! Not the Hungarian please.” She gave him pleading eyes.

“Talk. Now, ” dictated Noman.

Amanda sighed.

“He is blind, ” she started, bringing her attention back on the baguette.

“It looks to be so with that cane and blindfold, but what’s your point?” Noman decapitated on his poor sausage again, all ears on her.

“It feels that...he keeps on looking at me even with his disability, ” she continued. “I have never felt this observed so much in my entire life, even with those men who have perfectly healthy pair of eyes.”

“Even with Matteo, ” Noman chimed in, giving her a cheeky grin.

“Psh, yeah, even with him, ” Amanda confirmed. She knew of Matteo’s apparent infatuation with her. She knew he was slowly making his move however subtle it may be. She liked the man, but not in a way he desired from her.

“Wow, that’s weird. What else?” Noman remained reserved of his comments.

“My body boils whenever he is nearby, and I tell you, we just met twice, last night and this morning, yet I feel so strongly towards him, ” Amanda poured out.

“Explain thoroughly, ” was what Noman directed just as he drank his fill of orange juice.

Amanda inhaled again and closed her eyes. It would have been better to forget those feelings for good, but for her best friend’s sake, she will have to relive it again.

“I hate the man, ” she started, keeping her eyes downward on her plate. “I hate how he makes my insides clench. I hate how he brings the soles of my feet cold. I hate how he curves his mouth into a smirk. But I am fascinated with him too. I... Shit, this is all messed up.” She shook her head. Silently, she wished the walls of the Vitalis Castle possessed no ears. Oh how embarrassing would it be if they do have spies and report this to that difficult man.

Noman seemed unaffected with her predicament though.

“Other women must feel the same way when in front of that kind of man. Heck, I even feel my testicles tingle every time I gaze at his blindfold, ” he remarked and this made Amanda cringe.

“Ewww, Dom, your disgusting.”

The latter laughed and wiped a rogue tear from his eye.

“Seriously though. You’re just experiencing the normal responses of attraction. This is new to you since you basically have zero experiences with men in your abundant lifetime.” He swept a thumb under his clean-shaven chin and smiled. “Think of it as sort of an incentive for being my bestest friend. Oh! What am I saying? I haven’t thanked you yet for coming to my rescue!”

He stood up, reached across the table and gave her a tight hug. Amanda welcomed it.

“But next time, when you’re drunk, please make sure you remember what happened to you, ” she stated, happy that her best friend was well and good with no side effects from last night’s partying.

“I will, pinky promise, ” Noman replied, showing her his pinky finger.