Bloodwitch (9 page)

“It’s … fine,” I answered. She hadn’t actually hit me. “What’s your name?”

“Rose, sir,” she replied in the same soft, deferential tones. “Master Taro wishes your presence. I am instructed to show you to him.” She stepped back, opening the way to the hall beyond. “This way, sir.”

As I followed her, a question came to mind. “Why are you calling me sir?”

Slaves in Lady Brina’s manor had called Taro that, but never me.

“I’m sorry.” Her gaze dropped again and her shoulders rounded, hunching in like those of an animal afraid of a blow. “Is there a different title you prefer?”

“No,” I answered. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her she could use my name, but what did I know of this place? Titles were a serious matter. I didn’t want to get her in trouble if she knew something I didn’t. “Sir is fine.”

“Yes, sir.”

I shook my head and tried to dispel my sense of unease. I was used to the idea of humans working for vampires and even assisting me as part of their duties, but Lady Brina’s slaves had never shown me this level of deference.

Wherever I was now, the rules had changed.

ROSE LED ME
down a stone hallway decorated with elaborate murals. Carved hunting cats stalked in and out of wood paneling, above which the walls had been transformed into a fresco continuing the theme in shades of red, gold, and silver. Iron candelabra holding snow-white candles lit the hall, revealing unique carvings on every door and knob we passed. The entire
building
was art, down to the carpets beneath my feet.

We passed a half-dozen more doors, all closed, before the hallway ended and we were forced to turn left through an open archway. A guard stood by the doorway, but he nodded as Rose and I approached, granting wordless permission for us to pass.

Farther down this next hall, two men were speaking in low tones. I could sense that they were vampires, but
neither looked familiar. I started to approach, curious, but paused as Rose sank to the ground a respectful distance away.

I didn’t know
who
these men were, but I knew
what
they were, which meant Rose was right—we were supposed to show respect. Taro had given me permission not to kneel for him, and Lady Brina usually couldn’t be bothered, but these two vampires were strangers. I watched them as discreetly as I could with my knees on the floor and my head bowed.

“I have to ask how you expect to break someone who can in fact boil your blood with a touch,” one of the men was saying with a shake of his head. His skin was as dark as Taro’s, but he was leaner, with black hair.

“The trick is not to let them touch you,” answered the other man, whose long, dark hair reminded me of my own. Unlike his companion, whose jacket was as well cut as many of Lord Daryl’s, the second man was dressed informally, in trousers and an unstarched shirt of such a deep russet that it was nearly black.

“We have company, Nathaniel.” The second man turned to look in my direction, and his black gaze met mine, triggering the back-of-the-neck shiver that always alerted me to the presence of their kind.

“Be good, Jaguar,” Nathaniel warned.

“I know the rules,” Jaguar replied as he walked toward me.

Jaguar’s Celeste
. Mistress Jeshickah had referred to another quetzal who lived among vampires. I now realized she might be very near. I would love to meet her. Maybe she could be a friend, unlike the Azteca from the marketplace, who had hated me as soon as they found out who I was.

Jaguar caught my wrist, his grip strong enough to bruise as he lifted me to my feet and said, “You must be Vance.”

“I …” All vampires had black eyes, but somehow Jaguar’s were darker. Deeper. I swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Nonsense, Vance,” he interrupted. “I’ve been instructed to make sure you’re happy and well taken care of. Jeshickah is very concerned for your well-being.”

There was something so honey-sweet in those words that they seemed foul, like they could have flies or other things stuck to them. On the other hand, hearing that Mistress Jeshickah herself had expressed concern for me was almost exciting enough for me to overlook the fact that he had dropped her title.

I glanced over at the other man, Nathaniel, to see if he was angry that I had interrupted their conversation, but all I saw on his face was amusement. He shook his head but said nothing before he continued up the hall in the direction from which I had come.

“Thank you,” I said. There, that was polite.

I tried to shake off the negative impression. Jaguar hadn’t done anything mean to me. He hadn’t said anything
except that he was supposed to be taking care of me. He hadn’t hit me or yelled at me, like Lord Daryl had done, or dragged me through snowy woods like Malachi.

“Rose, you are dismissed,” Jaguar said to my guide. “I assume you were on your way to see Taro?”

“Yes, sir,” I answered, instinctively falling into formality.

“Relax, boy. You and I don’t need to use titles with each other,” Jaguar said. “As it turns out, we’re going to be spending a lot of time together. My mother was one of your parents’ people, and Jeshickah seems to think that means you and I should … bond.”

The last word had an ironic lilt to it, but a more pressing matter had my attention—a question more important than any other I could ask.

“Why do you call her Jeshickah?” I asked. “Taro told me I should never call her by name without her title. He never does. He says it’s rude.” It was also rude for me to question a vampire about anything … but I needed him to clarify before I could have any idea whether or not to trust him.

“
You
should never forget her title because you are a bird, and therefore nowhere near to being her equal,” Jaguar answered. “Taro uses her title because he knows he is not her equal, either. No one really is. I frequently do not, because … well, I’m rude. Taro will agree.”

The half smile on his face seemed very honest and almost elicited a matching reaction from me, before I squashed it. He rapped sharply on one of the elaborately carved doors, which was immediately opened by a thin man with a collared throat just like Rose. Another slave, I decided.

He half bowed to Jaguar, saying, “Master Taro is completing a project but will be with you momentarily. May I be of service while you wait?”

“Vance would like some breakfast,” Jaguar replied. He hadn’t consulted me first, but as soon as food was mentioned, my stomach rumbled, so I supposed he hadn’t needed to. “Something simple.”

“Yes, Master.”

The slave slipped out of the door like a shadow, leaving us alone in a sitting room that—like all of the building I had seen so far—lacked windows. The furniture was hard wood, polished until it shone, and a tapestry woven of rich colors in abstract shapes warmed one stone wall. There was no fireplace, but there were runes above the main doorway that resembled those that warmed the stream in the greenhouse. Was this the kind of magic that Mistress Jeshickah thought I might be capable of? If I was, it would mean that people like Lady Brina wouldn’t need to hire the unreliable cretins Lord Daryl complained about. On the other hand, why would people like Malachi feel so threatened if
my magic was meant to be used for comfort and cosmetic things like this?

There were two other doors, but both were closed.

“Where are we?” I asked Jaguar.

“You don’t know?” he asked. As if to himself he added, “I suppose you wouldn’t. You’ve always been in Midnight, but now you’re in Midnight
proper
, as some people call this building to distinguish it from all the lands and properties that make up Jeshickah’s empire. Jeshickah had planned to bring you here soon, but the debacle with Obsidian and the market hastened our plans.”

“So … I’m going to stay here?”

Twin emotions warred in me. Lady Brina didn’t want me in her greenhouse; Mistress Jeshickah wanted me here. Was
she
here? Obviously Taro was. But this place was so different from what I was used to. There was no sunlight, no scent of fruit trees, no twittering of birds above.

“I had intended to tell the boy
gently
,” Taro chastised Jaguar as he emerged from one of the back rooms. He shut the door firmly behind him and twisted a bolt to lock it in place.

“I think you underestimate him,” Jaguar replied. “He doesn’t seem to need coddling. Do you, Vance?”

Put in the middle of the two men, I wasn’t sure how to respond. I wanted to agree with Jaguar, but I could see the disapproval on Taro’s face already.

“Why Mistress Jeshickah thinks you will be a good influence
is beyond me,” Taro sighed, before turning to me. “Mistress Jeshickah thinks—”

“I’ve already informed the boy of Jeshickah’s plans,” Jaguar interrupted, with a sidelong glance at me that convinced me he was intentionally baiting Taro. “You can think of me as a confidant, Vance.” He stretched out on one of the long sofas in Taro’s sitting room, much to Taro’s obvious annoyance. “For example, you can ask me all those pesky questions that our mutual friend here would say were presumptuous or offensive, like ‘Why is the sky blue?’ and ‘Why does Mistress Jeshickah occasionally smell like a stable?’ ”

A startled laugh escaped from my throat. I clapped a hand over my mouth, only to realize that Jaguar was looking at me with a conspiratorial smile. Even Taro looked more resigned than horrified.

“The answer, by the way,” Jaguar said, “is that Jeshickah is diligent about caring for her horses and does much of the work herself, despite having plenty of slaves to help. It is not wise to point the odor out to her, or to get between her and her bath. The woman does not tolerate filth, on herself or anyone around her.”

This time I couldn’t help but laugh—partly in horror, yes, but partly because I had never met anyone like Jaguar. Despite my first impressions, and my better judgment, I was starting to like this bold newcomer to my life. A confidant, he had called himself.

“Very well,” Taro said, shaking his head. “Vance, you
are always welcome to visit me here if you have any questions that this irreverent fool isn’t able to answer, but you are officially Jaguar’s charge from here on.”

Malachi’s words about Taro came back to me unexpectedly, giving me a chill:
They call him the gentleman trainer, because he can be oh-so-polite while he strips an individual of all hope and dignity. He is careful and methodical, which I’m sure is why they assigned him to you
.

If Taro was the gentleman, what was Jaguar?

“Come, Vance,” Jaguar said with a smile. “We should let Taro get back to his work, and I’ll show you around the building.”

I glanced at Taro, anxious at the idea of being sent away so abruptly, but he gave me a gentle smile and waved me off. “You’ll be fine,” he assured me. “You know where to find me if you need me.”

The slave who had gone to get me breakfast returned just as we were walking out. Jaguar handed me a pastry from the tray and informed me that I could eat while we walked. The light fare wasn’t filling the way the squirrel stew had been, but that was actually comforting. It meant no one was expecting me to trudge through snowy forests for hours.

“This is the west wing,” he explained, gesturing to the hallway outside Taro’s room. “All the doors on this side go to the trainers’ apartments, so that is where you will find Taro, me, Jeshickah—if you were idiotic enough to visit
her without being summoned—and others who are not so friendly.”

“Like the man I saw you with earlier?” I asked, curious. “Nathaniel?”

“Nathaniel is a mercenary, not a trainer, but yes. You are young and impressionable and should ignore him at all costs, or else his morals are likely to corrupt you.
This
,” he said, moving on smoothly to a door on the opposite side of the hallway, “goes to the courtyard. Do
not
go there. Jeshickah keeps a pet leopard, and it likes live food. This is … also none of your concern,” he said as we passed the last door on that side of the hall, “because it will always be locked. This is a working building, Vance. You understand that some areas will be off limits, so that others may do their work, right?”

I nodded, wondering what work was done here. Jaguar had referred to himself, Taro, and Mistress Jeshickah as trainers—the same word Malachi had used with venomous hatred. I wondered how Jaguar would define his profession, but I was still too dazed by his glib narration of our journey and didn’t feel able to summon big questions, much less understand their answers.

There was another archway at this end of the hall, and another guard, but the door was closed. “Beyond this,” Jaguar said, gesturing to the door without opening it, “is the south wing, where the humans go about most of their tasks. You won’t need to go there often, but if you ever need to
find, say, the kitchen or the infirmary, this is where you should look. You don’t strike me as the domestic sort, though.”

“What
do
I … strike you as?” I asked. I knew how to tend Lady Brina’s orchard and help her with her paints. I didn’t know what kind of person that made me, especially in this world with no windows.