The Perfect Servant

Chapter 8

Hello all! Sorry for the long wait! I had a family emergency come up-my sister who has four kids (including one who is only eight months) broke her foot. Her husband had business away from home that he couldn't miss either, so she would've been all alone if My father and I hadn't drove out to help her. And man, I love those children, but they will pick and pick at your sanity with tweezers until you are sure you're insane. 

Anyway, not my favorite chapter. Syla wasn't talking to me since I went so long without writing.   :(  But, hopefully you enjoy and the next chapter will be much more fun. Thanks for reading!

PS. Also note that I've updated some things about old chapters, mainly changing and adding cast, and putting up songs. Also, the girl who I think looks the most like Syla after doing sooo much searching is only sixteen years old. Weird, since Syla is nineteen, but she looks so much like how I imagine Syla! Not exactly, but close. You can imagine Syla how you like though, this is just the image in my head. 

Not Edited.

...

The day my mother died, everyone around me was completely silent. No one had dared to make a noise, for fear of what rampage Carmichael would go on. He was deceptively temperamental, especially without my mother around to keep him in check.

I had been allowed to watch her die, to give her one final hug and kiss before she faded away. I wasn't allowed to cry over her dead body; that right was reserved for Carmichael alone. He had stood in the doorway of her room, watching us with a clenched jaw. Vampires don't cry, but I could tell that he wanted to.

Even if Carmichael didn't truly love my mother, he believed that he did.

And he hated me, because he blamed me for her death.

I blamed myself too, but, I blamed him more.

And the vampire lord.

I hated vampires. Even before my mother died, I had hated them. Who wouldn't? I saw humans get sold like livestock. I saw them get beaten, and starved, and raped. I watched as the light slowly died from people's eyes, little by little. I saw kids my age who were nothing but skin and bone, who didn't even beg the guards for food anymore, because what was the point?

I could see their effect in even my own mother. Margaret La Roux had been treated like some prized mare. Sure, she was treated better from the all the rest; She had preferred Carmichael over the savagery of the cages- just like a dog prefers an owner over the pound. And everyday, I looked into my mother's eyes, and I watched for that light. And on the days that I couldn't find it, I did everything I could to make her smile. Because if she lost her light, then what hope did any of the rest of us have?

I didn't change the day my mother died; I just got smarter. I realized that I'd been going about it all wrong. It wasn't about saving humans, it was about ending vampires. It wasn't about rebellion; It was about obedience. Give the vampires what they want. What did I care for my pride? It was not a sword I could wield on a battlefield, and it would win me no wars.

I would wait and watch. I would do as I was told, just like the tiger in the circus jumps through hoops. I was not tamed-I had just learned to let them think that I was.

I could survive. I could play this game, wear this mask, and let them think I was the perfect marionette. Only, Alexandre had thrown me through a loop. He first surprised me by buying me from the Obsidian-A jail cell I was sure I would die in. Then, he continued to treat me unlike any other vampire has. I wasn't some tiger thrown in a cage until it learned to obey; I was a person, just like he was.

At least, that was what he wanted me to believe.

I didn't actually think he was as kind as he pretended to be. Everyone had an ulterior motive.