A pair of heels clicked out a staccato rhythm against hardwood floors as a figure paced the length of the dimly lit study. Her hands instinctively found the silk scarf knotted at the base of her throat, worrying the delicate material between her fingers.
Months had passed since Blake's abduction, and a pall of dread hung over the house like a suffocating shroud.
"Where could he be?" The gravelly voice of Reggie, Rose's most trusted aide, broke the heavy silence.
He stood beside the towering mahogany bookshelves, his broad shoulders slumped in defeated weariness. Dark circles lingered beneath his eyes, evidence of the sleepless nights that had plagued him since Blake's disappearance. Even for a vampire like himself that required minimal sleep, rest was an inescapable penalty. And his body was eventually going to have its revenge.
"We have to find him." Gunther pounded his meaty fist against the oakwood desk, making the antique inkwell rattle. "Blake is out there somewhere,"
Randal on the other hand simple shook his head. They couldn't believe they had failed Rose, failed Blake and everyone that counted on them. One minute victory seemed like it was within their grasp and then the next, everything turned dark.
When they eventually recovered from the wreckage, even with a hole inside his chest, Reggie was the one that tumbled the wrecked car and saved his brothers.
They had spent months recovering as the injuries they sustained were bad, even for vampires of their status. However, as soon as they could walk again, they got right back in the fray, searching for Blake. No signs of him at every corner they looked. It was as through he had disappeared into thin air.
"We should have been more at alert on that day. Of course we have enemies around and they were bound to strike!" Randal said with bitterness in his voice.
The hulking man's booming voice came out as a hoarse croak, his usual bravado cracking under the weight of his anguish. He raked a hand through his thinning chestnut hair, his expression one of haunted torment.
Rose's heart ached for her men - Reggie, Gunther, and Randall. They had been utterly restless since that fateful day, jumping at every creak and shadow as if expecting an attack at any moment. Their dedication was unshakable, their loyalty to Blake unbreakable. She herself was barely able to get out to do anything for a whole month. She laid in bed all day exhausted from shedding tears.
Despite the weight of the sacrifice she knew she was going to have to pay for Blake's freedom, she never expected a more heart wrenching event as this.
But she could not afford to unravel alongside her men, not when so much hung in the balance. Rose was their pillar, their anchor in this storm of uncertainty. If she faltered, they would all be swept away, consumed by the churning whirlpool of despair. More importantly, she couldn't give up because then, they too would give in to their woes.
Finding Blake was now more dependent on them than ever. Her time was running out fast and she knew it.
"Very well. If you're quite certain, Ms. Shelley."
"Quite certain, Mr. Edwin."
Rose retrieved a leather-bound folio from the desk drawer and slid it across the gleaming desktop. Edwin accepted it with trembling fingers, carefully prying open the cover to reveal the sheaf of documents tucked within.
For the next hour, Rose walked him through her explicit instructions, leaving no room for ambiguity or error. She detailed which subsidiary companies were to be liquidated, which properties put on the market for sale. Edwin listened with rapt attention, occasionally pausing to scribble notes in a tattered legal pad.
By the time the directives had been issued and the final document signed, Rose's throat felt parched and raw. She rose from her chair, indicating that their business had concluded.
"I shall begin making the necessary arrangements first thing tomorrow," Edwin assured her, carefully stowing away the signed paperwork.
Rose could only nod, her energy reserves utterly depleted. She ushered the lawyer towards the door, only halfheartedly acknowledging his murmured farewell. The instant the door clicked shut behind him, she allowed her shoulders to sag, the very picture of bone-deep weariness.
A persistent nausea had been twisting her stomach into knots for weeks now and was doing the same as she crossed the study and sank into the plush wing-backed chair beside the dying fireplace.
An unnatural tiredness seemed to weigh upon every limb, her eyelids drooping with fatigue. It was even more worrying because she didn't know vampires to come down with an ailment. It just never happened. So what then was wrong with her?
Rose frowned, running her hands over face, dread blooming in the pit of her stomach.
This was no mere bout of bloating or a cruel trick of her mind's subconscious desires. Rose's clothes hadn't felt this constricting since...no.
She wouldn't entertain such fanciful thoughts.
Squaring her shoulders, Rose smoothed her palms over her blouse, then pushed herself out of the chair. There was only one way to ascertain what ailed her...
"When I started out, the council always thought it was stupid to have a personal doctor given I'm a vampire . Well, I have always believed in practicality and efficiency," Rose grunted as she got up to leave her study.