The woman in front of him looked very close to human, all things considered.
Her pale lavender skin and bone white hair almost seemed to glow in the moonlight that filtered in through the barred window far above their heads, her piercing eyes blazed crimson, and, of course, she had the teeth of a predator. Her expressions, though, could be disarmingly familiar.
Lenora smiled.
"You know, there are those who say we can't make art." Her tone was light and conversational as she ran the flat of an unnaturally sharp dagger across the man's stomach.
Vesper bit down on his cheek, suppressing a cry. It wouldn't do to interrupt her.
Lenora tangled her free hand in his silver hair and yanked it sideways, exposing his throat.
"Creative sterility, they call it. We know that isn't true, though. Why do you think they say that?"
Gods, conversation. He tried to pull his thoughts into working order, but not fast enough.
"They're just not wise enough to identify kicking somebody around in a basement as 'art', if I had to guess. Sad state of things, but that's how it is."
Valentina could never let things pass without a snide comment, and Vesper knew that would get her killed someday like he knew the scars on his neck.
Lenora smiled, fangs barely visible between her soft lips, and dropped Vesper. The fall knocked the air out of him, but he looked up at his sister and mistress before his breathing steadied.
Lenora stalked towards Valentina, fastidiously avoiding the largest pools of blood, and stroked her cheek.
"You know, my darling, I think you're entirely right."
Valentina stared blankly for a moment, seemingly wrong footed by the response to her insult, and Lenora moved on to petting her hair.
Valentina's bound hands shook, chains attached to the wall keeping her from doing anything foolish with them. The lack of a gag meant she wasn't entirely without bad options, however.
Vesper knew what was coming before it happened, cringed back against the other wall of their cell as though he could run from this.
Valentina spit on Lenora's face.
Lenora froze, and Val looked undeservedly smug as it dripped down their mistress's cheek.
Lenora stepped backward, took a kerchief from her pocket, and wiped her face, mechanical and expressionless. The good mood from earlier was gone as though it never existed, and Vesper felt his stomach churn.
Silvery vampire spit laced with her natural venom joined the rest of the mess on the kerchief. Besides saliva, the fabric had picked up an errant smear of blood from when Lenora was playing with Vesper earlier.
Valentina opened her mouth to speak, but her smug expression changed to indignation when Lenora crammed the balled up kerchief in her mouth.
"Vesper, sweetheart, our Val is going to be food tonight, I can't stand to look at her for long enough to use her as a canvas." Her voice cut through the sounds of protest from his sister, muffled twice over by the kerchief and Lenora's hand.
Vesper nodded quickly.
"Yes, mistress."
The venom quickly weakened Valentina's struggles, and her wide brown eyes fluttered closed. She'd be dazed and half-aware for the feeding, which was probably for the best. All these months, and she still wasn't used to it.
"Vesper?"
His gaze snapped to his mistress at once. His sister was safe, and Z never appreciated being kept waiting.
The vampire smiled, and he relaxed slightly, even though it didn't reach her eyes. Making her happy was usually easy, and always safer.
"Your sister hasn't exactly... taken to being bled like you have."
His cheeks darkened, but he didn't dare look away. It still hurt, but the venom and the approval from his mistress was enough to send him floating on a wave of endorphins.
"You're going to help her with that."
She finally let go of Valentina, who didn't have enough fight to try and spit out the wet wad of fabric again. Lenora leaned forward and unbuckled the human's belt.
Vesper didn't understand. He looked up at his mistress, who stared implacably back at him, red eyes emotionless.
A marble statue, immovable and eternal.
