SUVA The woman's eyes are emotionless; they search mine for God knows what. Her impeccable brown hair is in a neat twist and her ruby red lips are pressed together in a straight line. Her inquisitive eyes leave mine and gloss over the rest of me. "What about this one?" the woman's voice is smooth and sweet, like honey. Tayler, my caretaker, is suddenly aware of this woman's presence. She scurries over to me, her high heels skidding on the marble. "This one is special," Tayler smiles, revealing a set of perfect white teeth. Her warm eyes and caring persona are ideal for a SUVA whose Talent is excelling in business. Tayler can make most people buy anything. When she was promoted to a SUVA showroom, it was tougher. You have to be able to tell not just what someone likes in a product, but in a person. "What's that?" the woman asks. She extends a long, manicured finger to brush off a piece of dust that was supposedly on my shoulder. "An ASUVA is an adolescent SUVA," Tayler explained. "She is our first; she is only 17." "I want her," the woman said firmly, oblivious to that fact. "How much?" "$10 million," Tayler said. Most SUVAs were about 4-5 million. The woman mumbles something about how expensive I am before handing Tayler a shiny credit card. Even I don't understand what is so special about me, other than the fact that I'm a SUVA. I mean, what's so extraordinary about a 17 year old girl with boring bronze hair and blood-red eyes? Honestly, I think I'm just dead weight. But this woman didn't think the same. "Heeeeeellllllllllllloooooooooo," she said, dragging her voice out long and clear, as if I were a child. I was about to tear her to bits when Tayler interjected. "Um, you should also know that she is fluent in all languages," Tayler told the woman. "Especially English." "Oh, I'm sorry," she replied at a normal pace. "Shall we be going then?" I nodded and followed her out of the showroom, the only place I'd ever called home. Now, I would be placed in a new environment to stay. It was pretty scary stuff. The woman led me to her car, which was sleek and black. She opened the door for me, to which I stared at her. Wasn't I meant to serve her? "Oh, it's not a problem," she said. "I'd rather treat you as my own daughter than a servant." I raised my eyebrow warily, curious of her motives. Nevertheless, I slid into the passenger seat and she followed into the driver's seat. The woman began to introduce herself. Her name was Marian Lysander, and she was the most famous plastic surgeon in the world. Her husband, Steven Lysander, was the CEO of the most famous electronic company in the world. She also had a young daughter named Iris who was adopted, like most vampire children. Iris was a year older than I. "What about you?" Marian asked me. "What is there to know?" "Nothing," I said flatly. My first word. Dry, hoarse, cold, dripping with contempt. But still my first. "What's your name?" she pressed. This woman was getting too pushy. "Ariadne." "That's a lovely name!" Marian gushed. "I was named for my great-grandmother Marian, who..." I let her voice trail off as I gazed out the window. The ever-green grass, the bright blue sky, the puffy white clouds. It was all so...perfect. It was hard not to love Carpathia. It was tailored to every vampire's needs. "Here we are," Marian's voice broke into my thoughts. I was astonished at the estate before me. The house was the biggest I'd ever seen, but then again, I'd never seen a house, period. A tall, equally perfect blonde girl opened the door and squealed at the sight of me. She ran out of the house in these super high heels and a really short skirt and nearly hugged me to death. She pulled back and shook my hand fiercely. "I'm Iris!" Her voice was high and tinkly. It really bothered me. "Ariadne," I squawked out. Too many perky people...it was making my head hurt. "Make sure you make Ariadne feel nice and welcome," Marian chirped. "Definitely!" Iris smiled. Her teeth were very white as well. She grabbed my hand and we continued into the mansion. "Hello, I'm Steven," said a brown-haired man. "I'm Marian's husband." "Ariadne," I said for probably the sixth time today. Gosh, these people were so naïve. "I have to show you to your room!" Iris piped up, and pulled me into a clear elevator with numerous buttons. She punched the Guest Floor button and we whirled away at a breathtaking speed. "You're going to love it!" Iris squeezed my hand and bounced around. I had a biting urge to tear my hand away, but I ignored it. "This is it!" Before us was a small hallway with a multiple doors. She stopped in front of the first one and a touchpad appeared. "What's your favorite color?" she asked abruptly. "Why?" I asked. "So I know how to tailor your room!" she said to me, as if it were obvious. Iris continued I ask me numerous questions. "Modern or old fashioned?" "Modern." "Do you like expensive furniture?" "No." "Favorite designer?" "Don't have one." "Favorite stone?" "Diamond." "Do you like sparkling water?" "No." "Carpet, hardwood, or marble?" "Carpet." "Do you like canopies?" "No." "Favorite fabric?" "Silk." "Favorite pattern?" "Lace." "Do you like glass?" "Yes." "Okay, I think we're done now!" Iris's hands covered my eyes and led me into the room. "And...tada!!!" Iris's hands left my eyes and there it was- My room.