“I know what you’re thinking. But if I don’t return, the video is set on a timed release to my contacts.”
Ashley felt herself trembling, willing the tears she felt forming to remain invisible. Tears only encouraged monsters like these. Selene had warned that if people knew about her blood, she would be in more danger than she could fathom. It left her with no choice. She either fed this monster or risked discovery, and something told her the creature before her wasn’t bluffing. If he didn’t get what he wanted from her, he would ensure she suffered.
With a resigned nod, she traced her hand across the work surface, using it for support as she crossed the kitchen to perch herself on the breakfast bar stool. She flinched as his firm hand grasped her shoulders and the tears she fought to restrain escaped. Pulling her hair aside, she tilted her head, exposing her neck and granting him the permission he sought.
“Don’t mark me.” Her demand came out as a strangled plea, and even with her eyes closed and her back to him, her mind conjured images of his twisted smile as he chuckled.
“I don’t intend to.” He grasped her hand, his fingers caressing her forearm tenderly, causing goose pimples to chase across her flesh before he removed the box she still clutched, from her vice-like grip, placing it on the counter. Within it, she once more caught sight of the unusual transparent creatures, questioning what purpose they had. “I’ll not bite you. Not yet, anyway,” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear as he fished one of the creatures from the box.
She flinched as its cold body made contact with the skin he had moments ago caressed. His hands returned to her shoulders, his fingers sliding across her bare shoulder as they weaved under the spaghetti-strapped pyjama top she had changed into after the earlier coffee incident. The touch was more restraint than he needed since she had already agreed to his demands. There was something about the way his thumbs rested at the base of her neck with a delicate yet controlling pressure that seemed almost familiar.
Focusing her attention to the creature on her arm, she watched with morbid fascination as its once-tiny form became swollen and its opaque texture turned red with the colour of her blood. Bile burnt the back of her throat at seeing it there, on her flesh. Despite feeling no real discomfort, she began to squirm, her eyes transfixed upon the creature.
“Hold still. It doesn’t take long.” She felt the pressure on her shoulders increase, a frown creasing her brow as she realised he was rubbing them gently. When the creature disengaged, he placed another in its exact location. She could feel the small resistance as it suckled, its small form swelling like her own nausea. “If anyone asks, you’ve been donating at the Taphouse for money, got it?” he whispered, placing the lid on his collection of blood-filled creatures. He placed one in his mouth and the sound of the fluid popping in his mouth turned her stomach almost as much as the sight of the blood-stained teeth he bore at her in a smile. For a moment, she dared another glance at him, at his smug expression.
“You have what you came for, now get out,” she growled quietly, wiping her tear-stained cheeks.
“I’ll see you again in a few days.” He left the way he had entered, pulling the door behind him. Sinking to her knees, she looked at the wound before wrapping her arms around herself, hoping to still the tremors that assailed her.
Emily watched the hypnotic flickering of the lights that dotted the false ceiling of the new room. She believed she had been moved here just yesterday, but time had possessed no meaning for what felt like a lifetime now; for all she knew, it could have been a few days ago, she couldn’t quite remember. Unlike her old concrete cell that had made her feel alone and isolated, there was nothing here but the wide open space between herself and the other Tabus who had earned the master’s favour. The world seemed so large now, so full of light and luxury.
Master had said that since that she’d been a good girl, she should be afforded some small luxury, like being able to move about. Her shaking legs hadn’t obeyed his desire, no matter how much she had attempted to please him. As a result, she heard she was to be given an increase in her nutritional feed, and had noticed her master looking on with approval at her latest blood results.
The single metal shackle around her ankle was weighted with a heavy chain. She often allowed her gaze to follow the winding path of the dull links to where they came to rest affixed to a metal plate within the wall. The chains sang softly with every movement she made, keeping her safe, and ensuring that when she was strong enough to stand without aid, she wouldn’t accidentally stray beyond her space. Glancing towards the bandages on her wrist, she noticed the yellow staining from her sores no longer marred the clean dressings, although there was a tender swelling around the place her needle was inserted. She knew from this that it was almost time for them to change its site. The thought caused pimples to chase across her heated flesh at the thought of the long, shiny skewer they would thrust within her.
With a slight wriggle, Emily felt her skin peel from the plastic coating of the soft mattress that now supported her weight, easing the pressure on her sores. It was one of the things she liked most about being a good girl. The soft foam was heaven, and now she had a catheter inserted, the cold hosings were a thing of the past, replaced by soft, warm flannels and soap that smelt of perfume and antiseptic.
The most disconcerting thing had been to find she was not alone. There were two empty beds to her left, but just beyond them there was an older man. While she couldn’t see anything specific, she could hear the occasional chime as his chains alerted her to movement and the slightest impression of a figure lying prone, but her tired, unfocused eyes could discern nothing more. When she had first been brought here he had tried to speak to her, his whisper too loud and abrasive against the silence that was expected. He told her Tabus who had graduated to this area were allowed to talk. But she had ignored him anyway, waiting until the master gave her permission to break one of the first rules he had given her.
She had tried to speak to him today, but since waking he been unusually silent. She wondered if he was dead, or if he had been moved during one of her dreams to the new households he was forever talking about.
Once a day, or so she imagined it to be, someone would come to her, lifting her moods and dismissing her into a world of bright and beautiful hallucinations. There was no pain in this magical place, just wondrous visions. She no longer felt the creatures being attached and removed from her like she had in the world of nightmares and horrors, where her mind had made them grow in size and each second was burning agony. She now knew only the bliss and euphoria of the dreams her master had seen fit to bestow upon her.
But she was awake now, trapped in her weakened body, awaiting the time she could once more fly. If she turned her head to the right, the haunting darkness from her old concrete cell could be seen, swallowing the room beyond its metal bars. Its darkness seemed all-consuming, like a gaping mouth open and awaiting for her to make a mistake so that it may devour her once more. She swore she would do whatever it took not to be returned to that cursed and lonely place.
Lifting her hand to her mouth weakly, she coughed, the sound far less abrasive than before, causing only mild discomfort through her chest as her breathing rattled. She lowered her hand, closing her eyes just moments before a loud noise startled her, reminding her again of her silent roommate. A man was being wheeled in, asleep. She hoped he was good so she could have some company soon.
Chapter 8
Ashley wiped her brow as she sat in the cafeteria picking at the peppers at the side of her jacket potato. She had really wanted it at the time, but now just the thought of eating caused her stomach to lurch. Blowing her hair from her eyes in an attempt to cool herself down, she shifted again, as a fresh wave of sickly heat enveloped her. She tugged at her cardigan, fighting against its stifling embrace before finally removing it.
“What is that?” Tess exclaimed, grasping Ashley’s arm, her eyes fixed on the raw, swollen mark at the crook of her elbow. She had
been doing her best to hide the mark, but the tail-end of her fever had caught her off guard. It was no longer isolated to night-time, but came on throughout the day. She imagined—she hoped—it meant it was finally coming to an end, especially since the tag mark had all but vanished. She looked at the angry-looking mark, rubbing it lightly. After the last letting she’d done for Liam, it was starting to itch.
“Oh, it’s just…” She trailed off, glancing around, looking for the figure she despised. After his last visit, she had a growing suspicion that she had seen him somewhere on campus. Scanning the faces of the lunch crowd, she failed to see him, but when he came to her it felt almost as if he knew her, and while he waited for his latest fix of her blood, the small talk implied he knew more about her than should have been possible. It unnerved her to think he had been watching her so closely. Unable to see him, she leaned closer to Tess, finally hoping to confide in her friend and seek her advice.
“It’s what?” Tess demanded, drawing Jack and Conrad’s attention from their own conversation.
“It’s—”
“Didn’t she tell you?” Will questioned, placing his hands on Ashley’s shoulders. As he approached behind her, she shied from his touch, discomfort welling as, despite her attempt to move away, he let his hands linger on her for a moment longer.
Seeing the mark, Conrad snatched her arm from Tess’s grasp to study the inflammation. His piercing gaze lifted from the wound, demanding answers she couldn’t give.
“She’s been donating. I saw her the other night.” Will moved around the table and shot an apologetic look in her direction before glancing over his shoulder.
“Shit, Ash, we talked about this,” Tess interjected. “If you’re strapped for cash…”
“Yeah, I know, but with having time off from work I needed to make up my shortfall.” The lie spun easily from her tongue, but she knew Conrad wouldn’t buy it. The question was, why had Will jumped in when he did? She glanced down at her arm, covering the wound with her hand in an attempt to prevent her friends from staring. “Look, I’m not proud of it, but it was essential.”
“Yeah, you have to take care of yourself,” Will interjected. He glanced over his shoulder again, an action which unnerved her, causing her gaze to stray in that direction, but she didn’t see anything untoward. With a sigh, he leaned close, whispering so only she could hear, “Who knows what would happen if you don’t.”
“Did you need something, Will?” Tess questioned, no doubt noticing the strange uneasiness of his posture and the way his words had caused Ashley to pale.
“Can I get a copy of today’s notes from you or Conrad? My dictator crashed. I know we’re not in the same lecture but I lost everything.” His eyes flitted towards Ashley. “It’s awful when things don’t do what they’re meant to. Now it’ll have to be disposed of. Who knows where things like that turn up when they stop doing what they’re supposed to?”
There was a darkness to his tone that caused the fine hairs on her arms to stand on end. Her burning fever was now replaced with a cold shiver. Now, more than ever, she was certain he wasn’t here of his own volition. His warning was too on-point, too timely. Ashley searched the lunch crowd again as she pulled her cardigan back over her arms, still failing to find the dark-haired vampire who seemed intent on tormenting her.
“They get recycled into new parts,” Tess volunteered, accessing her notes, swiping them across ready for transfer. “Connect?” He touched his device to hers and she transferred the necessary notes. “Everything okay with you, Will? We haven’t seen you lately.”
“I’ve been about.” He shrugged. “I’m still tied up on that project. It’s really eating into my time at the moment. We could always get together after classes. I’ve missed you guys, but”—he glanced over his shoulder again—“maybe we could do a stay-in film night.” Just then Ashley tensed, feeling the looming presence of the vampires approaching. “Anyway, catch you later.” Will raised a hand, turning from them to fall into stride with Devon’s small group as they made their way towards their regular spot.
“Friends of yours?” Ashley heard him ask.
“Nah, just getting class notes.”
“What was that about?” Conrad questioned, his vision still on Ashley who couldn’t meet his gaze.
“I think Will’s in trouble. Remember last year when his gran’s shop started getting vandalised?” Tess began, her gaze drifting over to the vampires.
“You don’t think?” Ashley questioned.
“Yeah, I think he paid them protection money.”
“There’s no way he could afford that.”
“Did you notice the scarring on his arms? What he said about bloodletting, I think he knows because he does it. Speaking of which, are you insane?” Conrad grasped her arm again having brought the conversation full circle. For a moment, she was glad to have the extra layer of protection her cardigan provided. The heat from his touch soothed her, yet the manner in which he set his jaw spoke volumes about the anger he was restraining.
“I needed the money,” she whispered through gritted teeth, trying to free herself from his grasp. She could have, if she’d have tried harder, but a weak tug was all she managed.
“We will talk about this later.” He matched her volume, allowing both his concern and disappointment to hang in the air.
Tess’s fingers snapping before his gaze drew Jack back to the present as she questioned if he was okay. He realised he was still staring, but Ashley had long since moved her arm.
“Sorry, I zoned out there for a moment. Hey, where’d Will go?”
Ashley inclined her head towards the vampires, but it seemed their friend was no longer amongst them. He let his gaze fall back to Ashley’s arm, relieved when the covered flesh caused no more images to assail him. Lately he had been daydreaming a lot, and it was the strangest things that triggered him to zone out in the way he had just moments ago. As he had stared at her arm, he had felt the familiar pressure building in the centre of his forehead, pulling him away to a reality where his daydream overlapped reality.
It was difficult to always remember what he had been dreaming, but this time he recalled at least a few of the jumbled images. Pulling out his sketch pad, Jack spread his art supplies across the table and started to draw what he’d seen.
“I should get to class.” Tess rose, followed by Ashley and Conrad. “You got a free period?” Jack nodded, his pencil working its way feverishly across the page. “Alright, we’ll catch you later then.”
“Alright, oh hey, are we still on for tonight?” He lifted his gaze towards his friends to see their confirmatory nods. All except for Ashley, who shifted uncomfortably, her hand rubbing over her elbow self-consciously.
“Actually, I can’t make it tonight,” Ashley whispered, lowering her head to avoid his gaze. “I’m finally back at work, although I am only doing a few shifts for the next few weeks. Next time, okay?”
“Sure, but I can’t promise not to spoil the movie for you.” Jack smiled, finalising their meet-up arrangements before they left. Turning his page back towards his first sketch, he frowned as he realised he had moved on from the drawing of a bike resting on the pavement, to a picture of a dark figure standing in the doorway. He might not have recognised it as Ashley’s kitchen if it hadn’t been for the sheer number of times he, Tess, and even William had dined there, sitting on one of the distinctive barstools that was just visible at the edge of his drawing. The entire image had been sketched in black charcoal, except for the mouth of the figure, where a few red lines created the impression of blood-red lips. With a shudder, he turned the page, unable to recall what other images he had seen.
He leafed through his earlier drawings, stopping when he saw one of his grandmother seated on a bench overlooking a beautiful flower garden. His mother had told him for years to ignore her ramblings about psychics and gifts and understand they were nothing more than an extension of the fantasy she had created for herself, but Jack was sure he could reme
mber her talking of such things even before his grandpa died. After his death several years ago, his nana had slowly started to slip away from them.
His mother said she couldn’t face any world without him and had created her own reality in her mind where they were still together, as a way to keep going. His nana, however, told him she was journeying to a different existence, one where they would sit hand in hand on the bench of a beautiful garden and talk. When he showed her the picture he had drawn, she’d nodded, placing her weathered and wrinkled hand upon his with a smile that creased the corners of her wrinkled eyes. It wasn’t long after this that his mother had made arrangements for her to be moved to the nursing home where Ashley worked, unable to keep up with her care needs as she deteriorated. She spent more and more time in her make-believe world, and it took a toll on her physical body. Now, she spent her days sitting in her rocking chair, gazing out of the window with a faraway expression, only pulling herself back from time to time to talk with Jack.
On one of the occasions he had visited, it had been almost as if she had awoken from her dream to the sound of his voice. She said his grandpa had told her to return to prepare him for what was to come. She had spoken of their family history, and how their tree could be traced back to one of the well-known oracles of ancient times. She told him stories of how their family tree had once been filled with Seers, and she could see that gift in him trying to awaken. It had been around that time he had felt the first tingle in the centre of his forehead, and a few days later when he saw his first nonsensical daydream. They hardly ever came at an opportune time, and so he committed what he could to memory, sketching them when time allowed.
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