Belladonna - July (Patreon)

The lights were low, shadows dancing around the room in a macabre movement of drifting grey memories. I stepped around them, leaving them to their ball, while focusing my attention on the desk at the far end of the room. The moonlight was streaming in, casting silver into Belladonna’s fiery hair. She didn’t even raise her eyes to greet me.

“Are you still mad?” I asked gently. She hadn’t been home last night. It was shaping up to be yet another lonely night without her. She would rather be here with her quill scratching across parchment than lay in our bed with me.

“Interesting greeting,” she murmured, not stopping her ministrations.

“Hi.” I came to sit at the edge of her desk, balancing just on the other side of a stack of books. She raised her chin slightly to send me a warning glare, silently signaling that it would be my death if I harmed the bound tomes.

“Hello.”

I was fiddling with the edge of my tunic, kicking my feet nervously. “You didn’t come home last night.”

“I was busy.” She flipped a page in her leatherbound journal, the parchment crinkling.

“Work?”

“Yes.”

I sighed. Belladonna was rarely this short with me. The woman thrived on lingering words that sounded more like poetry than conversation. I could drift off to sleep, listening to her speak nothing more than the ledger numbers for the day. The sound of her voice was my light in the dark.

“I know you’re mad,” I finally said.

She dipped her pen in ink, tapping it on the side of the bottle. “I don’t know what I would be mad about.” 

“Bella,” I said. She had every right to be mad. I had acted prematurely. She had been dealing with the denizens of the Night Market much longer than I had and I should have trusted her. I did trust her. Yet, when I had discovered what she was doing, where she was going, who she was going to see, my gut had twisted.

“You know,” she said, interrupting my train of thought. “Ethically sourced blood never used to be a concern. In fact, before the blood bars, I’m not sure if the words ‘ethically sourced’ had ever been used in relation to blood, let alone an individual’s pallet.”

I winced. So, I had clearly been right.

“It’s funny, though. In the last few decades we’ve grown a conscience and while I personally would still love to hunt through the streets and kill whoever I want, I do understand that a society can’t function properly in such a way, especially given the growing vampire population. Hence, the blood bars and their fun little blood bags and the warm willing bodies.”

I nodded, already knowing this. Belladonna, while not as involved in the blood bars anymore, still looked them over. Still made sure everyone followed the rules. She still owned an upwards of three of them and put her favorite vampire kin who were not cut out for the duplicates of life, behind the bar.

“So, what do you think happens when one of those places, that these blood bars receive ethically sourced food from, suddenly are locked off by the owner's lover due to some sort of ill placed jealousy?”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Really? I’m a fool then.”

Belladonna had been on her way to a meeting. A meeting, I might add, with a man who was well known for screwing over his buyers. He gouged them in prices, his business practices were questionable at best, and he was located in a part of the Night Market that even I wouldn’t go to. Yet, Bella had set herself up to facilitate not only several shipments of the best imported blood, but live bodies who wished to pay off their debt as a source of food within these bars. I had requested that she not go. I didn’t like where the deal was being made and I certainly didn’t like the man. Bella, of course, had refused, citing that she had met with him hundreds of times before.

So I closed off the passage to the man, erecting a wall far taller than the average vampire could scale. Especially a vampire with stiletto heels and a penchant for manicured nails.

“Look,” I said, “there are other sources–”

Her hand slammed down on the desk. I expected her to yell. To berate me. Instead, she breathed deep, regaining control, and smiling that thin smile that said I was dismissed.

“Yes,” she said. “I won’t be home tonight as I track down those sources.”

“Bella, please–”

“No. No. You are correct. Thank you, my heart. I appreciate you bringing that to light.”

I hated when she iced me out. I could feel the cold running through my blood. When Belladonna was truly mad, there was very little room for discussion. Everything was suddenly on her terms.

“Bella, stop this.  Talk with me. Yell at me. Cry into a pillow. Just do something.”

“I happen to like my pillows and would rather them not get bloody.”

“Bella–”

“Fine.” She spun in her chair so quickly that I nearly fell off the side of the desk. Her nimble fingers dug into my hip as her hand flashed forward, cupping my upper thigh to steady me. “You overstepped. That was one of my oldest contacts. I worked years to get that deal. And you decided you didn’t like it because I fucked him once, so you threw a fit and placed a brick wall between us.”

I was grinding my teeth. “It wasn’t just once.”

“I was a whore,” she spat. “You cannot go around erecting barricades around everyone I’ve spread my legs for.”

I didn’t want to hear this. I knocked her hand away and stood from the desk. “Stop,” I told her.

“Why? You know who I am. Your first meeting with me was within the Pleasure District. You do not get to conveniently forget that one.”

“Thats’ not what the problem is!”

The laughter that followed was cruel. It was a reminder of just how biting this woman could be. “Dear heart, I love jealousy on you. It is very sexy. However, when it interferes with business, that is where I draw the line.”

“I don’t want you dealing with him!”

“Tough shit!”

We stood across from each other, only a few feet apart. Was I being irrational? Perhaps. Was Bella not understanding me? I certainly didn’t feel like it.

“I just–” I didn’t know what to say. She was right of course. This was her business I was messing with. The pettiness of preventing her from doing something after she told me no was not something I was proud of. But still…

Belladonna stared at me. “I love you,” she stated. “But you don’t get to control my business. You do not get to dictate how I run it. You don’t have to like who I deal with but you will respect it. And this childish tantrum is not something I find endearing. You set my business back. I am having to pay twice as much for my blood now.”

“He’s evil, Bella. You’ve even said so.”

“I’m evil,” she stated. 

“You’re not.”

“Oh, my darling. I am.” Walking up to me, she put her hand on my cheek. I couldn’t help but lean into it. “I don’t like this side of you. You are good. You are pure. I want you to keep that,” she whispered.

I felt everything deflate out of me as I swayed on my feet, leaning into her embrace. This time, she did not hesitate to wrap me up in it.

“I’m sorry,” I told her. “I let jealousy get in the way. I shouldn’t have.”

“I forgive you,” she told me gently, petting my hair.

“Come home tonight?”

“Of course.” Pulling back, she kissed me. It was soft. Gentle. Containing everything we always struggled to say. When I finally pulled back to breathe, she still clung to me. “Let’s go home,” she told me quietly. “I can finish my business tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “I killed the man you hate so much. Don’t worry about him any longer.”

I reared back. “What?”

She was already packing her things up, blowing out the candles in the room. “Evil, remember? I killed him after punching through your stupid wall and I am now in the middle of a hostile takeover of his business. The blood bars will have to deal with me now.”

“Bella–”

“Did you want to stop and get dinner on the way home? I’m famished?” She came over, taking my hand, smiling at me. I just stared at her, mouth agape. Yet, I couldn’t really say anything. Nor did I want to. I could be here light if she needed, but I would forever relish in her dark.