Blood and Ballet (PREVIEW ONLY)

Chapter 4 - Fangs

I've never considered myself pretty. Most girls say that, I know. I have always been a bit of a plain Jane. Luckily, I was blessed with a ballet body. I'm told that women would kill for that kind of physique.

Me? I'd kill for a nice rack. Ballet dancers—most of them anyway—don't have big chests. So naturally, I've always wanted one.

It's silly how we want what we can't have, like going outside. After arriving at Anghor Manor, I constantly dreamt about going outside. I couldn't help but gaze longingly through the windows. Sometimes I'd drag a chair to one simply to watch nothing in particular—the birds, the trees, anything really.

You're probably thinking, what's so bad about living in a high-class manor? It's got the latest and greatest technology. It's got stunning fifteenth century charm. Why leave? Well, like I've said, knowing I couldn't leave made me want it more. Why did Eve try the forbidden fruit when she was already living in paradise?

Escaping Anghor Manor was never going to happen. I knew that. It was a fortress. Still, I had hope. There was the possibility that Fluxx was less guarded—the possibility that I might sneak away through the crowd. To find out, I needed to get to Fluxx, and for that, I needed permission to accompany the other girls. The only person to grant it was Caius.

It took me days to find Caius's study. I knew it lived behind one of the many locked doors, so you can imagine my surprise when I stumbled across it unlocked. I half expected to find Caius at his desk. Pleasantly enough, I found myself alone. So, I began to explore.

The ceilings were vaulted; I couldn't keep myself from gazing up into the rafters with wonder. There were alcoves and smaller nooks, loaded with shelves of books. Elegant, fine looking books they were—the kind you'd see in the house of a collector.

The central study was filled with Caius's grand desk. To the side sat an impressive couch arrangement with rich, coffee colored leather sofas and ottomans. The arrangement faced a massive fireplace. I gazed at it, awed by the handsomely carved marble.

The back wall impressed me the most. It hosted a vast display of books three stories high. Two narrow walkways spanned the length of it, one on the second level, and one on the third. Two wrought iron spiral staircases with gold railings led up to these.

Eagerly, I went from one alcove to another, thumbing through books, delicately sliding my fingers across their bindings. I was too nervous to pull them out at random, so I contented myself with gentle caresses. Most of them were not in English. Quite a few were in Latin, and many more were in languages I didn't recognize.

I squealed gleefully when I discovered a section of titles that I could read. Then I found the holy grail of all books: a section containing English literature. My heart skipped a beat, and I eagerly swept through them. I was looking for several books in particular—books that I'd read a hundred times over.

I sighed when I found them. My hand settled on Jane Eyre first. I pulled it out. Immediately thereafter I saw more of my favorites. I removed another, and another. When I had a nice stack, I retreated to the nearest plush couch and took a seat, setting my spoils upon the end table.

Pride and Prejudice was on the top, so I took it up. It was a first edition—no surprise there. Still, I was amazed to be holding it. Eagerly but delicately, I began flipping through the pages to my favorite part, the part when Mr. Darcy proposes and Elizabeth cuttingly turns him down. I'd read the story so many times, but that didn't matter. It was the most familiar thing I experienced since arriving at the manor.

I cannot say how much time passed like this, going through my favorite parts from each book. I lost myself, and for the first time, I felt comfortable.