Eve: Or Cinderella Gone Bad

Here is the second chapter. I hope you like it.

Eve: Or Cinderella Gone Bad Chapter 2


The next day, when she got home with Bèbè, Delphine was there waiting for them. Again. Sylvie hadn't seen the woman since she left last night in such a hurry. Maybe this new boyfriend was something special after all. Sylvie assessed Delphine closely, noting the scarf around her neck, the lilac sweater and black t-length skirt. She actually 
looked like a lady. 
 

Oh yes, very special indeed.

Dinner was very uneventful. Delphine ate with them again, so that meant the cheapskate wasn't even going to take her out to dinner. That was a shame because it would have been much simpler. Well, at least he wasn't going to join them.

Sylvie wasn't going to get off scott-free, however. Oh no, she was to dress herself and the other girls even better than if they were going to church. Like appearing for royalty. If she wasn't so annoyed at the extra work it would entail, Sylvie would have been amused.

But extra work it was. Not only did she have to get Bèbè dressed, she put the two older sisters' hair in curlers, brushed it out, and made sure there wasn’t hair out of place. Sylvie's hair only reached to her shoulders, so curling it wasn't necessary. She just brushed it and pulled it back with barrettes.

When Sylvie was done, she had to smile as she admired her handiwork. Bèbè looked precious in her red velvet dress, and Sylvie had tied her hair back with a matching bow. Mignon had a velvet dress of her own that brought out the blue of her eyes. Terrie had been a little of a problem because she was in the stage where she outgrew her clothes as quickly as she got them. Sylvie had finally found a pretty floral dress that wouldn't quite pass as finery, but took away some of Terrie's awkward coltishness. For herself, Sylvie chose a rose colored dress with a bow at the waist that tied in the back. She liked the way they all looked, but it was a lot of trouble for a man who would disappear eventually.

Just like all the others.

But what if he didn’t'? Sylvie had the uncomfortable feeling that Delphine was trying to sell them to this guy. The perfect family. All that was missing was a daddy…

At seven o' clock, the doorbell rang and Sylvie stiffened. She's been through the drill too many times, the only difference was that this time she'd put a lot of effort into everything. Hmm, maybe this man had money. Sylvie couldn't fathom any other reason for this charade.

Giggling like a schoolgirl, Delphine opened the door. Standing there was a young man who was closer to Etienne's age than Delphine's. Cradle robbing, was she?

Sylvie admitted to herself that this man was very handsome. Black hair, high cheekbones and eyes that reminded her of ice crystals, with just a hint of grey in them. His presence was magnetic, to say the least. Arrogant and commanding, he was impossible to ignore, though Sylvie was determined to do just that.

He spoke French, but it was a different dialect, sloppier. Delphine introduced him, some name Sylvie immediately forgot. Ever obedient, the three younger girls curtsied and greeted him in unison.

Sylvie could not read thoughts but she could just imagine what Delphine was thinking right now. Something along the lines of a prayer, begging Jesus that Sylvie would behave for once and not mess things up.

Too bad. Sylvie was about to greatly disappoint her dear stepmother. She never spoke to the other boyfriends, she was not about to start now. She had her fill of Mr. Wonderful and was about to turn away but his eyes suddenly looked into hers and Sylvie was completely immobilized.

Sylvie was used to being undressed by men's eyes and she usually gave them a little push to force them to stop. If they were unusually persistent, she went the other route and flicked her will at them with just enough annoyance to jolt them. But this man wasn't undressing her. He was unpeeling her. Layer by layer. Sylvie could feel him stripping away all her defenses until there was nothing left but her bare soul.

The room was spinning, she was going to pass out. What the hell was happening to her?

Sylvie didn't plan on sticking around long enough to find out. She gathered every bit of her strength and tried to pull herself away. Instead, he let go, and the only thing that stopped her from falling to the floor like a discarded toy was sheer willpower.

Without thinking, she ran out the door and kept on running. It was spring, early spring, and past eight at night. Dark and cold, but Sylvie wouldn't dare venture back into the house for her coat. Besides, running would soon overheat her anyway. She knew the perfect place to go. He wouldn't find her and she'd be protected.

"Where you goin', cher?" His voice, only it was in English this time, with a really lazy drawl and a voice as smooth as velvet. No wonder his French sounded like slang, he was from the States, and now that she thought about it, the dialect seemed to be Cajun. He was probably from Louisiana.

Sylvie understood English but rarely spoke it. Most of the people she knew were Quebecois, like she was. She ran faster.

"You can run, but you can't hide." He was suddenly in front of her, blocking her path. "Why you runnin' from me? I'm here to help you, not hurt you."

Those words. She'd heard them before, from him right before he-no! Not again! She would never fall for those words again. They rang in her ears, echoing in her brain.

Sylvie snapped. All the resentment, she pain, the rage and the hatred she'd nourished in her heart from a seed to a flower burst open in a torrent she could no longer stuff into her subconscious. Shaking, she SHOVED it at the man, a snarl escaping her lips.

Only to have it stop midway. Blocked. Something was blocking it. Protecting him.

- Tell you what. – It was his voice again, but it was in her head! – You cancel the attack or I'll just drop my shield, hurl that venom back at you and let you die. -

What choice did she have? Sylvie took a deep breath and took the poison back in. When she got past the first wave of nausea, her mind was clear enough to think clearly again. So, she and her father weren't the only ones, eh? This man could do the same things, only he had more power.

The man shook his head. – We won't be able to go any further until I fix you up a little.- His eyes narrowed slightly.

The noxious mess she took in lessened in intensity, until there was nothing left. She stared at him, wondering what he just did.

- It's hard to describe, but I can show you how. There is a lot I can show you, Sylvie, if you let me. -

"And what do you get out of it?" Sylvie demanded in English.

The man smiled. "A student," he answered aloud. "One of my own kind. You have no idea how long I've been searching for another of my blood."

That was all Sylvie wished to hear. "I don't care if you can do what I do. We're not the same. Don't say we are. Go find someone else, I'm gone."

Sylvie began to walk very fast, anything to get away from him.

- If you give me just a few moments, cher, I promise, I will kill the one you hate the most. -

Again, the words were in her head. She loathed the contact, was there no way she could escape this freak? – Get out of my head! – she sent, projecting the thought as easily she'd previously projected emotion. – Leave me in peace!-

- Remember Sylvie, he said before withdrawing, The one you hate the most.- Then he was gone. Completely gone and Sylvie felt a strange sense of loss. She was alone. She'd wanted this, demanded it, yet she was sad. Had she just driven away the only one who could answer the questions she suddenly had about herself?

Sylvie brushed away those feelings of doubt. There was no reason for them. He had nothing to offer her. Besides, there was something wrong, something not right about him. Or the way he made her feel. She barely knew the man, yet she was attracted to him, like some maiden from one of those silly romance novels Delphine was always reading. Thoughts of being ravished by this prince were flashing through Sylvie's brain and she hadn't the slightest idea why. She didn't have these kind of thoughts.

Not even about him.

She'd turned him down last night, she was just too damned tired. He stomped away and Sylvie's world crumbled. He didn't love her anymore. Well tonight she'd make it up to him. She'd let him do whatever he wanted. Just like she had for the past seven years.

Yet those feelings were love. Not this animal-like lust that burned in her loins. She hadn't thought herself capable of such impure desires. They made her uneasy. They made her excited.

Sylvie was running out of breath so she walked towards the place she'd been headed for before she was sidetracked. The one place no one could hurt her.

Only when she reached the cemetery gates, he was waiting for her. He'd never done that before, up until now, this was Sylvie's safe haven. It would no longer be. "Bonjour Sylvie," he greeted her, his lips in a tight little line.

Sylvie didn’t say anything, she rarely spoke to him. Then again, it wasn’t really necessary to say any words but "yes," and "no."

"You left in such a hurry, no one knew where you were. Aren’t you lucky that I offered to come fetch you?" He smiled, baring even white teeth. “On my way here, I saw you with some guy.” His voice was deceptively cheerful but Sylvie knew he was on the edge of a tantrum, and she was helpless to do anything but stand by and wait. It was coming. Lately, it always did.

“Well, how was he, you whore? Was he a bonne botte?"

Sylvie was mortified by the insinuation, though calling her a whore was nothing new. It wasn’t always like this. It had started off as a game, so long ago. She was six at the time, and he was eleven.

“Let’s play a game Sylvie...”

At that time, she kissed the ground he walked on. Sylvie would have done anything to see his smile, to make him smile. Such a small thing to do. She got nothing out of it, but all that mattered to her was that he got something out of the little bit of touching she let him do. Sometimes his fingers hurt, but she would bite her lip. Sylvie was a big girl. Big girls didn’t cry like babies. Touching him was better. It didn’t hurt then.

After awhile Sylvie learned to leave her body during those times. She was still in it, of course, but she wasn’t connected anymore. No more pain. As soon as he started, she’d zone out, knowing it would be over soon enough.

It went on for years as Etienne made more and more demands on her. She always gave in with the hope that he’d take care of her again, like he used to.

But now she was obeying out of self-preservation. "I'll make up for yesterday," she whispered, but her belly had a different idea and she abruptly doubled over, vomiting the bile that rose up to her throat.

Etienne grabbed Sylvie and shook her. "You were tossing your cookies yesterday morning too. And the morning before that. Are you preggers, plotte?"

"I-I don't know," Sylvie admitted.

Her stepbrother's response was to punch her in the stomach so hard she doubled over and folded to the ground. "You think your bastard is gonna live?" Etienne kicked her side. "Ain?"

"Yours too," Sylvie gasped.

"Se fermer la trappe,guidoune," Etienne hissed before slapping her face. "You talk when I say you do. This is a fitting place for you, don't you think, Sylvie?"

A cemetery. He was going to kill the baby. Or kill her.

Sylvie never felt pain but this wasn't physical. Her heart was breaking as her Prince Charming showed how little he cared about her. Could she die of a broken heart?

"You little slut," Etienne shouted, kicking her with each word, "I'm tired of you." Then he grinned evilly. "Terry's getting really pretty. And her hot little puss is so tight. You're used up."

She curled in defensively, trying to prevent more damage to her body. Was she ever in love with this horrible boy? Or was she so starved for affection that she just fell for the first sweet words he said so long ago?

"Is everything okay, ma cheri, Sylvie?" she suddenly heard the man who was Delphine's newest suitor ask.

Etienne laughed nastily. "Connard, this is none of your concern."

"She's my blood. That makes it my concern," he replied.

"Your whore you mean," Etienne sneered. "Unless you fuck your own family. Then again, you probably do."

A strange smile flickered on the man's face. "Not like you mean. And if you touch Sylvie again, you'll die here."

"Yes, yes," Etienne replied in a bored tone. "Look, I'm sure you have everyone in your little town shaking in their boots but if you leave now, I promise I won't beat the ever living crap out of you."

"I'd like to see you try, coullion," Delphine's date said cheerfully.

Sylvie was finding it harder to stay conscious. Finding it harder to care if she died.

"Merde!" Powerful hands picked her up. She didn't know whose they were. It didn't matter. "Petit, I want you to listen to every word I say. Stay awake or I can't save you."

"Are you deaf, mongole?!" Etienne shouted furiously. "I said get the fuck out of here!"

The man ignored him. "I need you to concentrate, little one," he told her, his lips vibrating against her throat. How could a mouth be so ice cold? "Focus on the pain. It's the only thing keeping you alert." After that, a stinging at her neck. Then the sensation of cut glass shredding her veins as the mouth pulled greedily and she grew weaker.

"Sauvage, what the fuck are you doing?" Etienne demanded, lunging towards them but the man backhanded him with a snarl.

It sounded more like an animal than a man.

Something warm and wet was suddenly pressed against her lips and she spat at first, thinking he was forcing her to give pleasure with her mouth, like Etienne. Only the taste wasn't the same, it was much sweeter somehow. So sweet that she found herself latching on to it, sucking. Drinking.

"See," the man crooned, "instinct is taking over. Just keep drinking until I tell you to stop."

"Sylvie?" Etienne asked, his voice smaller than she ever heard. "Are you alright?"

Alright? She was fantastic. Better than fantastic. Etienne's fear now that he'd found a bigger bully than him was just the icing on the cake.

(No more, Syvie.) It was clearly her new saviour yet there was something strange about his voice. It had the same softness of a whisper yet none of the breath.

No breath at all.

Sylvie realized her eyes had been closed and she opened them, seeing that what she thought was his penis was actually the man's wrist. His bleeding wrist. Only it had stopped bleeding. (That should hold you for a while,) he said gently.

Wait. If his wrist had been bloody and it was against her lips, where had the blood gone?

But she knew. Her mouth tasted of the same sweetness. The realization made her throat burn and she tried to vomit but Delphine's suitor held her mouth closed until she swallowed it down again. "It's for your own good," he whispered, laying her down on the ground carefully before seizing Etienne.

Etienne the coward. "Just let me go and you can have her, I'll walk away like I never saw you," he begged.

"But you see dat's just it, boy," the Cajun drawled, speaking at normal volume now. Sylvie recognized that he could turn the accent on and off like a light switch along with how loud he spoke. "You're the one I want so she can have you." He leaned in and licked her stepbrother's neck.

That was too much for Etienne and he struggled."Fifi! I don't do that gay shi- " Etienne's words died in his throat as he saw the man's lip curl to reveal teeth that were much longer and sharper than they were supposed to be. Then they sank into Ettiene's neck and his struggles ceased completely.

Only for the man...no, more of a monster....to press his bleeding wrist against Sylvie's mouth again moments later. She wanted to push it away. She wanted to want to push it away but she needed it too much and she sucked ravenously until the flow stopped and she bit into his wrist trying to get more.

He shoved her away. "No more from me. Take the rest from him," he hissed, pointing to a half-conscious Etienne. "I left you the rest."

Apparently he figured out what the monster meant because he pled with Sylvie. "N-no Sylvie, don't!"

Because she still had feelings for him, even with everything he did, Sylvie tried to resist her rapidly growing cravings. But Etienne smelled so good and she was so hungry. she couldn't help but crawl towards him.

"What happened to your eyes?" Etienne asked, his terror escalating. "They're glowing!"

And her gums were tingling so intensely that she felt like she was teething. Strangely the more scared Etienne became, the better he smelled and stronger the tingling was until her gums split open and it turned out that she was indeed, teething after all.