Vampires Don't Cry

Chapter Two ;

I wanted so badly to have been anywhere but there; sitting at that dinner table, surrounded by three of Feruche's most hated kind of immortals who were watching me poke at my food as I wondered if they had drugged it or poisoned it.

"Are you not hungry?" Marcus said, raising his left eyebrow. He traced his index finger around the thin edge of his crystal wine glass. The glass housed a thick red substance. Presumably, blood. After all, blood was the only thing vampires could actually drink. I slapped myself mentally, Of course it was blood. For god's sake.

Their undead bodies couldn't digest mortal food anymore. No, they would have to expel it soon after they ate it. If they didn't, the food would rot in their bodies and cause problems for them. Which was a bad thing... For them. My parents had taught me that, even though they knew I didn't have a thing for killing the undead. Better safe than sorry they liked to say. I understood them now.

Marcus was one of them. His eyes gave it all away. They glowed in an uneasy manner. Like they could never rest; they could never be at peace. All the while he was watching me, I felt his undying thirst for blood. The thirst that could never be quenched; never be put out.

But he also had a english accent which I found quite amusing.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a small smile flicker on and off Klaus' face.

"No," I lied. "I'm not hungry." In a way, I was telling the truth. I wasn't hungry... I was starving.

Tristan watched me, a look of disgust set on his face. I felt my heart beat increase as I thought of all the possible ways they could torture me.

"Tell me Princess, why are you so scared?" Tristan whispered softly, but his voice seemed to echo throughout the room, all around me, vibrating through my body as if he had just shouted in my face. He was a musical, it melted into the walls and I felt shivers break out, running up and down my spine. He pulled a box of cigarettes out of his pants left pocket and tapped on end of the box against the table. He pulled one of them out and lit it and inhaled deeply.

"I have a name you know?" I said, feeling annoyed. Being called 'Princess' wasn't exactly a favorite of mine. It never has been, never will be.

"Yes," replied Marcus suddenly, jerking his hand away from his wine glass as if it had just scalded him. "We all know your name. All immortals know your name. My dear princess, you are famous!" His voice was almost mocking.

I felt fear begin to bubble up slowly in the pit of my stomach. I had never killed an immortal, nor have I seen one face to face. Until now that is. How could they have known me?

"How-" I began, but Klaus cut me off as if he had read my mind.

"You belong to the Royal Family. Everyone knows the Royal Family. They kill our kind like plucking leaves off the trees," He spat. "You're the only one in their family who doesn't kill us. No one knows why though. Maybe it's because you're too scared to. Or maybe it's because you're too timid. Whatever. But that's only one reason we have you, princess. You're priceless. The King and Queens beloved daughter, kidnapped by vampires! The immortals they loathe oh-so-much. The thought of their lovely little princess suffering, just by breathing our air..."

"Enough Klaus!" Tristan hissed, but it was too late. The tears found their way out. I lowered my head and squeezed my eyes shut, hoping that none of them had seen me –hoping, that the tears wouldn't flow.

God, I wanted to kill myself. Sadly, for me, crying was something I did when I was scared or angry. Another thing I hated myself for.

The tears slid down my face, dripping down onto the velvet dress I was wearing, creating dark spots on the cloth on the places where tears fell. I pulled my hands together in my lap and prayed to God that he would stop the tears from falling.

The room was silent now. All except for the dripping of my tears.

Pat... Pat... Pat...
None of them said anything. Nothing. No words of comfort, no words of hurt, no words.. at all. Which was far worse than anything.

"I-I want to go h-home," I managed to say out in between my sobs. Klaus scoffed and opened his mouth to say something but he closed it again when Marcus glared at him. I looked up finally, when I had no more tears to cry, picking up my knapkin and dabbing my swollen eyes lightly with it. Klaus looked highly amused, and Marcus sat there looking annoyed, like he had just been put in a very awkward position. Tristan showed no emotion on his face. I couldn't read him.

"I'm sorry Princess, You can't." Marcus said softly, but his words hit me like a rock to the head. Something in me snapped. I couldn't take it. I wouldn't take it. I wanted to go home, and they were going to let me.

"STOP CALLING ME PRINCESS! MY NAME IS REED! AND WHY THE FUCK CAN'T I GO HOME?!" I yelled, not being able to control myself.

Marcus smiled, "I like her," He said suddenly, "Feisty. Can I have her?" He asked, looking at Tristan. He was adding salt to the wound. I seethed at him.

"WHAT?!" I screamed, feeling my cheeks begin to burn.

Tristan stared daggers at Marcus, and suddenly, the atmosphere in the room darkened and the hairs on my arms stood on ends.

"No one is having her. And I mean No one." Tristan growled, baring his fangs.
***

They locked me in the dining room and moved into the next room. There was silence, then I heard them talking through the door. Probably aware that I could hear them. I pressed my ear against the cold wooden door to hear more clearly.

"Why the fuck did you do that for?" It was Marcus.

"Because she's the Princess." Tristan said sounding very bored, like he was stating the obvious.

"What does she being a princess have to do with you baring your teeth at me?!" Marcus said, his voice getting loud. He was getting frustrated. "You insult me?!"

"She's mortal for god's sake, you do not say such things about mortals, and if we want her parents to do what we want, we must keep her pure; untouched. " Tristan explained.

"She's living in our house, I get to have some fun with her." Marcus snapped. Oh god, what was wrong with him? I didn't want to have fun–inverted commas–with an immortal thing that kidnapped me!

"I say we kill her. After all, she's only making things harder for us." Klaus added out of nowhere.

My heart pounded faster. Kill me? What had I done to them? I continued to listen hoping they would decide against it. You know, I was really not liking Klaus at the moment.

"You do know that she is listening to us right?" Tristan added in a calm tone. As if it didn't bother him at all. I could imagine him pointing at the door I was leaning on, giving me away to the other two. I backed off from the door and kept walking until my lower back was pressed up against the glass of the dining table. I let out a small unnecessary gasp when the door to next roomed opened and out stepped a very very pissed off looking Klaus.
***

I woke up in the bed that I had woken up in previously; not in my own room. I was still in the red velvet-like gown they had given me to wear for dinner and my head was throbbing painfully. My lip was split and my cheek was so sore, I couldn't even touch it. I screamed in frustration and buried my head in the pillow again.

The memories of last night were a blur. I couldn't remember much, except the fact that Klaus had hit me very hard for something. What that something was, I couldn't remember.

"Enjoy your sleep?" Someone said from the far corner of the room. The voice was soft and almost musical. Immediately I recognized the voice.

My spine snapped upright and I turned all my attention to that part of the room. Life couldn't get any worse.

"What are you, like, stalking me or something?" I asked feeling very annoyed and scared at the same time. I couldn't have woken up to bask in my own worthlessness alone?! Plus, he just had to choose the one time of day that I looked like a haystack monster... person... thing... Whatever.

Tristan smirked and unfolded his arms, resting them by his side as he moved closer toward me. I shifted uncomfortably on the bed, trying to be as far as I could away from him without scraping my wrist on the shackles that bound me.

He stopped walking toward me when he noticed the expression on my face. He stood there looking at me with a look of amusement playing about his angel-like features. And that was the first time I noticed how gorgeous he was. And fuck, was he was hotttt. His dark hair was loose and messy, left to hang about his gorgeous, ice cold, blue eyes. His flawless pale skin, so fair, so perfect. Not a blemish in sight. I felt my heart beat faster and he smirked. I guess he heard it too.

He continued to make his way over to me very slowly, putting one foot in front of the other as if measuring the distance between us. He stopped so suddenly when he reached my side that I jumped. Tristan smiled and took my hand. His skin was cold and hard, like when you touched marble; it had that cold feeling.

I gasped, when I felt his cold skin touch mine. No, not because it was unnaturally cold, but because when Tristan touched me, I felt what seemed like an electric current flow through my entire body. And it hurt; like hell.

He pulled away from me, like my skin was poison. I guess he had felt it too. Tristan eyed me cautiously and then, looked down to his fingertips; like I had left my blood on his fingers. A very disturbing thought.

There was a long period of silence before he pulled a ring of keys from his pocket, very carefully unlocking the chains that held me prisoner in my own room; making sure he didn't touch me again.

Tristan stopped, his eyes searched my face; studying it. He bore into my soul. He saw right through me. He saw my weakness, my uselessness.

Then, he smiled.