Chapter 8: First Touch

While Charlotte had accepted the silent challenge that Lord Hunt initiated, it didn't mean she wasn't any less nervous about it. Shayla had informed her that Lord Hunt didn't actually bite or put his mouth on his servants, but rather used a sharp blade to drain their blood. It sounded a lot more professional than the traditional way, which to Charlotte always seemed more intimate. But she wasn't too keen on the idea of being sliced with a knife either.

She spent most of her day wandering around the castle grounds and trying to calm her nerves of what was to come. Charlotte wanted to prove to Lord Hunt that she was going to stick to her goals. There wasn't going to be anything that pushed her out of what she had set out to Willow Creek to do.

The castle was beautiful in every aspect. Each room was lavish and well kept, as though time had barely touched it. But as the hour drew closer, Charlotte became more and more unsettled.

Charlotte was back in her room fifteen minutes prior to the hour that Lord Hunt was to come for her. Every minute that ticked by felt agonizing, to the point where she was glancing towards the door and listening for the knock. She could feel her heart pounding anxiously in her chest. Never in her dreams would she have imagined herself readying to offer her blood over to a vampire. Creatures she had always been fascinated by, but had always remained wary of.

Regardless of the laws and regulations that had been put in place to limit vampires from overkilling or creating too many more, there were likely still those that didn't follow them. Just as there were humans that didn't follow the laws. Charlotte wanted to know their history and their stories, but she didn't want to get too close to those fangs. Tools that had been responsible for draining the life out of humans for centuries.

Finally, there was a knock at the door just at the turn of the hour. Charlotte had been so lost in her worrying thoughts, that the sound of it startled her. After she was able to calm herself, she rushed over to open the door. Right on time, Lord Hunt was standing outside and waiting patiently for her. In one hand he held a silver chalice and in the other, a long, jeweled sheath which could only contain the silver knife Shayla had mentioned.

Swallowing her nerves, Charlotte stepped aside silently and motioned for him to enter the room. He only acknowledged her with a nod before passing by her, heading over to the end table that sat next to her bed. She watched him set the items he brought with him gently down on the wooden table while she quietly shut the door.

"Are you ready?" Lord Hunt asked and turned his attention to her.

Charlotte made a slow approach over towards where he was standing at the bedside table. With every step, she was trying her hardest to shake her nerves, determined to keep her ground and not allow him to see that he made her nervous. Or even the idea that he was about to hurt her made her nervous, despite the fact that she knew this man would not kill her. His other servants were a staple of the idea that Lord Hunt did abide by those laws.

"Yes, of course. I'm ready when you are," Charlotte said and after taking a quiet breath to herself, she held out her left hand to him.

Silence fell in the room and for a long few moments, Lord Hunt just eyed her carefully. She felt that he might be trying to decide if she meant what she said or not. But even though she felt unnerved, she kept her hand out to him and waited for him to do what he needed to do. After a wait that seemed to last forever, Lord Hunt finally took her hand in his.

His touch was firm but gentle at the same time. The touch of his skin over hers was smooth and cool, like polished marble. Charlotte took quiet, deep breaths to keep herself calm as he carefully turned her hand over until her palm was facing upwards. Then in his other hand, he took the knife and held it up in the light.

Free from its sheath, the blade reflected brilliantly like a mirror. The silver of the blade was perfectly polished and beautifully made, much like everything else in the castle. Now was the moment that she was dreading the most, the cut. Charlotte held her breath as the blade was pressed to her open palm and quickly slid across her skin, the tip biting across her hand. Then with a gentle tug, Lord Hunt urged her forward so he could hold her bleeding hand over the chalice.

She watched as the blood swelled up from the slice he made in her hand. It ran freely down the side of her hand before dripping into the waiting cup below. This process seemed as though it would take some time despite the size of the cut. If he intended to fill the chalice completely, Charlotte could have expected to be standing there for several minutes while she bled out.

"Take it easy! That hurts!" Charlotte exclaimed suddenly. The hold that he had on her hand started to aggravate the cut, leaving a sharp, stinging sensation.

At her words, Lord Hunt paused, his gaze moving from the cup and over to her. "Is this your first time bleeding for a vampire?" He asked.

"What does that have to do with anything? The way you're pressing on my hand just hurts," Charlotte responded. She was both a little frustrated and flustered.

"I see, so you are so determined to get your story that you would sign over your blood this way?" Lord Hunt pressed.

Charlotte focused her gaze on him now, who watched her with careful consideration. She wasn't sure if this was another challenge he was putting forth or if he really wanted the answer to that question. She decided she wasn't going to humor him though and scowled back at him. Her silence, of course, earned her an amused scoff from the vampire.

Lord Hunt did something next then that she wouldn't have ever seen coming. Not based on anything she had heard about him. After another moment of considering her response, he took her bleeding hand in both of his and carefully brought it up to his lips. The touch of those perfectly curved lips made initially to the cut on her hand was gentle. He'd left a soft kiss which bloodied his lips.

Charlotte was left in a shock at the touch, taken aback that he would do something like that. Everything she had been told about him was that he was opposed to directly feeding on his servants. Even another servant had said that he never put his mouth on anyone and yet, here he was doing just that. It had her almost ready to yank her hand out of his grasp. Especially after she met his gaze while he purposely slowly licked the blood from his lips.

"You gotta be kidding," she grumbled under her breath.

He didn't respond verbally though and instead just smiled back at her, deep crimson eyes flickering with amusement. The audacity of this man, she thought. He really was pushing her to see how far she might go in order to get the information she was after. This whole thing was just to shake her nerves. Which probably meant that he knew how nervous she was whenever he arrived.

She was ready to demand he just get on with it. But before the words could even leave her lips, he went back in for a second taste. His lips pressed gently to the slice in her hand, gliding gracefully around the wound and lapping up the blood as it spilled out. Gradually, the grip he had on her hand eased and he came to cradle her hand carefully.

The movement of his lips and tongue over her wounded hand was done expertly in such a way that after the first few kisses, she could no longer feel the sting of the wound. The only sensation she was left with was the tingling she felt from the continuous kneading of his lips over her flesh. It started to feel therapeutic in a way, having Charlotte even gradually relaxing under his touch and becoming increasingly captivated by it.

There wasn't a time she could have remembered feeling such a way after a simple touch. She found herself wishing he would do more than just kiss and cradle her hand. It was as though a veil had been thrown over her thoughts and all the frustration she had felt before disappeared. Charlotte became completely lost in the touch of a vampire and it wouldn't be until he abruptly pulled back that she snapped into reality again.

Lord Hunt pulled himself away from her hand. He hastily pulled from his pocket a handkerchief and pressed it into her palm. As soon as her fingers were closed around the cloth, he dropped her hand and stepped away from her. He looked shaken, as though he had woken from a bad dream. Perhaps, Charlotte had not been the only one who had gotten lost in the touch. The last thing he reached for was the chalice, which was only a quarter of the way filled.

"Enjoy the rest of your night, now if you would please excuse me," Lord Hunt said after clearing his throat. He left just as hastily as he gathered his things and hurried out of the room without looking at her.

His hasty exit left Charlotte confused. She could only stare after him, holding the handkerchief in her palm and trying to make sense of what just happened. From what she understood, he had only begun to directly drink from her hand because he was trying to see how much she could stand.

However, at some point that motive faded and his instinct to feed took over. Once it had, the both of them got captivated by the contact. It left Charlotte with a little more of an understanding as to why some willingly chose to be a vampire's servant. It also left her confused about her original opinion of that lifestyle. Was it something that she could enjoy as well?