An Undead Rebellion (Sequel)

color of blood //

Arabelle's P.o.V.

My bare feet walked over the smooth tiles of black floor, as Femi personally escorted me into a large dining hall. I was swathed in a floor length dress that was sleeveless and made of black silk, with intricate embroidery across the sternum and a slit in the side that went all the way up to my hip. The fabric clung to the curves of my body, accentuating all the best attributes, and was semi-sheer so it was just slightly noticeable that I wore nothing beneath.

An oval shaped table sat in the middle of the room below a chandelier wrought of iron, and red candles were dispersed over the table, dripping wax from small pillars. The table was already almost full when I entered, and I spotted Safa, Corey, and Jordi, but I didn't recognize anyone else. It didn't go unnoticed to me the way Jordi's gaze lingered over my body, and I silently dared him to try something else. I wanted an excuse to hurt him. I wasn't bound this time, I could implore my full strength, and I desperately wished to tear out his throat with my teeth.

Femi gestured for me to take a seat next to Corey, and I settled into the empty chair that was cushioned with maroon velvet, my posture listless. Femi went to take the only other vacant spot at the table, which was beside a man that was positioned at the head, whom I could only assume to be Ceric.

He had blonde hair that was worn slicked back, a square jawline and eyes so dark I thought they might have been pitch black. His fangs were a bit more pronounced than the average vampire, longer, and I noticed it when he smiled slightly.

"The queen," he intoned with a voice that was akin to rich soil, deep and almost ancient sounding. "How lovely it is to finally meet face to face."

"I imagine so." I responded, flippant in manner. "And who are you?"

"Ceric Satie. I am the founder of the Rebellion. I am the man behind the army. For the most part."

I was curious what he meant by for the most part.

"Then I assume I'm finally speaking with someone who has a shred of intelligence." I said.

Ceric smiled slightly. "I admit, most of my members are required to be adept at killing – not politics."

A man outfitted in Rebellion attire came to the table, placing a silver chalice by everyone.

"But Corey," Ceric moved his dark gaze to him. "You have surpassed my expectations. I've been growing quite fond of you from afar."

"Happy to be of service," Corey quipped with a smile that was nearly scathing in nature.

I picked up the chalice set out before me, sniffing at the red liquid inside. Wine. Spices. Blood. My throat burned like a hot blade had been shoved down it. I drained the contents of my cup, setting it back on the table empty. Licking my lips, I glanced over to find Corey staring at me.

His expression was mostly stoic, but I could see a trace of apprehension at the edge of his features. I stuck my tongue out at him, and he shook his head faintly, looking away.

Satisfied, I brought my attention back to Ceric as he spoke.

"I'm sure seducing the queen wasn't too terrible of a task," he said. "On the contrary, I'm sure you quite enjoyed it." Ceric glanced over me. "Now that I've seen her, I'm not surprised you didn't argue with the proposal."

"If I may," I leaned forward. "Can I ask what the purpose of that was? To gain my trust? Because that was a pointless endeavor if you were ultimately going to break it. It would have made more sense if you kept up the ruse and used him to get me on your side. That would have been a much more effective tactic."