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This post has foul language and may not be suitable for all readers. Reader discretion is advised.

            How do you go through life as a mistake? Not even just a mistake, a mistake is more like an “oops baby,” no, I’m literally someone else’s fuck up. You become me, Eleanor Tremaine, just some dumb kid whose life began with a shit ton bad luck.

            I don’t remember much before the bite and actually I don’t remember for a couple of months after the bite either. My memory somewhat begins waking up next to the mutilated corpses of my family, and then she was there, Serena, my benefactor, someone who gave me purpose.

            The mansion is a replica of French 17th century architecture, I only know this, because Serena said it was when I first came to live with her. Hidden within the décor and genuine antiques are state of the art security measures. One of the many lessons I’ve learned over the years, vampires are fucking paranoid.

            Vampire guards roamed the grounds at night, human security servants during the day, cameras in every room except the bedrooms and bathrooms, but that doesn’t meant there aren’t listening devices in the rooms without cameras. Vampires are a blackmailing bunch, they’re sneaky, always trying to do something to win the Regent’s favor, stabbing each other in the back. Another lesson, keep your fucking mouth shut if you know what is good for you.

            As Regent, Serena’s responsibility is to keep idiot vampires from being idiots. As Serena’s second, my job was protector, enforcer, and babysitter.

            She was a lovely woman to look at. Serena was are soft curves, unmarred pale skin, long auburn waves, but tonight she was not having a good time. I could hear her yelling from another wing of the mansion.

            “ELEANOR! BRING ME ELEANOR OR SO HELP ME I’LL RIP YOUR THROAT OUT!” Her voice, usually soft sultry tones boomed from her private chambers. My hearing, is exceptional, and I could hear the sobs long before passed the armed guards that stood outside her door. They paid me no attention as I stepped into her room. Serena had destroyed the room. Her drapes were torn from the rods, shredded, the feathers of her massacred pillows and mattress had fluttered around the room, and some were stuck in her hair. Serena wore only a dark purple robe, having fallen open in the front.

            “Mistress,” I crooned at her, “what am I to do with you?” She was sitting on the floor, surrounded by feathers and splintered wood that might have been a chair. I sat next to her, and placed my arm around her slender shoulders. Serena, delicate, fragile looking, though older than me, was younger in appearance. She placed her arms around me and sobbed into my blouse. Vampires cry blood tears, and before I handled tonight’s business I’d have to change my shirt. I stroked her long hair, picking the feathers from it.

            “I can’t lose you,” she whispered looking up at me. Though I was a woman, I was larger in stature, my feminine curves traded in for what could be considered burly muscles. I was still blessed with a decent cup size, a slender waist, and rounded backside, I traded alluring demure beauty for strength. Serena would seduce you, and if she didn’t poison you, she’d drive a dagger into your heart while you slept with her. I didn’t have the patience, I’d just shoot you, or if I didn’t have my guns, I’d hold my own in a fight.

            “I’m not going anywhere,” I replied to her. She looked up at me, her face, though a full woman’s, seemed like a small child. Her large blue eyes were red rimmed, and her cheeks streaked with blood tears. There was a sad truth to it that though I was not human, I was not a vampire, either. I aged, much more slowly than humans, but still even I had begun to notice the years tick by. In my appearance I was nearing thirty, but I was actually closer to one hundred in age.

            “You don’t understand, Erasmus is awakening!” That did pose a problem. Vampires used each other like pawns. Some vampires when they get really old, enter into long slumbers, and sometimes they wake-up. Erasmus was Serena’s sire, the one who made her a vampire, and was Regent before her. He had a hatred for my kind that was unrivaled by any other vampire, and here I lived, with the vampires, among them, and even second to one. When Erasmus awoke, it did not matter how long I’d been loyal, that Serena had rescued me as a pup, I would be put down like a rabid dog.

            “I’ll think of something,” I whispered to her, gently kissing her forehead, but now that her tantrum was over, her lips sought mine. Serena’s kisses were always soft and sensual, but she was needy, biting at my bottom lip, sliding her robe from her shoulders, laying bare and beautiful and perfect before me.

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