Michael's Blood

by S S Bazinet

  PRAISE BY READERS

  The Vampire Reclamation Project Series

  Book One: Michael’s Blood

  “It is a wonderful blend of the human and spirit realms with incredibly well developed characters and the perfect touch of humor.”

  “Enticing page-turner that has you wondering if indeed Arel's soul can be saved.”

  “It is so refreshing to read a book that offers a completely new twist on a vampire's life.”

  “If you've ever had nightmares about unspeakable horrors, and you know inexplicably that man's inhumanity to man is part of your personal history, this book will ultimately give you courage to carry on. It is riveting and timely and inspired.”

  “I truly enjoyed the interplay between the angels and Arel.”

  More Books by S. S. Bazinet

  The Vampire Reclamation Project Series

  Book One: Michael’s Blood

  Book Two: Arel’s Blood

  Book Three: William’s Blood

  Book Four: Brother’s Blood

  Book Five: Tainted Blood

  Open Wide My Heart Series

  Book One: Traces Of Home (A Love Story)

  Holiday Hiccups (A Holiday Romance)

  A Warlock Under The Mistletoe (A Holiday Romance)

  In The Care Of Wolves Series

  Book One: My Brother's Keeper

  The Madonna Diaries Series

  Book One: Dying Takes It Out of You

  Book Two: Living Takes It Out of You

  Sentenced To Heaven Series

  An Inmate's Tale from the Other Side

  Book Two: A Vampire In Heaven

  Copyright © 2012 by S. S. Bazinet

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, organizations and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by Renata Press

  Albuquerque, New Mexico

  RenataPress.com

  Visit the author’s website: SSBazinet.com

  Book cover by Panagiotis Lampridis.

  ISBN: 978-1-937279-09-7

  To my children,

  Gabriel, Anna, Laura, and Julia,

  and to my dearest friend and inspiration, Michael,

  and to my beloved Mom who never stopped believing in me.

  Acknowledgments

  My profound thanks go to Laura Christine, my editing genius, and to my extraordinary copy editors, Anna Marie and Julia Ann. A big thank you goes to Gabriel for his wise and insightful editing contributions and for all the times he refused to give up on me. A big thank you goes to George for all his care and concern and for his amazing narration. My grateful heart goes out to Ricky Brian for always cheering me on and for his wisdom, and to Gene for his wonderful and loving dedication to helping me whenever the need arose. I am grateful to my two sisters, Beverly and Cynthia, for always nurturing my dreams. Also, many thanks go out to all my family and all my friends for their encouragement and support. I am incredibly blessed to have all of them in my life!

  CONTENTS

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  Thirty-Five

  Thirty-Six

  Thirty-Seven

  Thirty-Eight

  Thirty-Nine

  Forty

  Forty-One

  Forty-Two

  Forty-Three

  Forty-Four

  Forty-Five

  Forty-Six

  Forty-Seven

  Forty-Eight

  Forty-Nine

  Fifty

  Fifty-One

  Fifty-Two

  Fifty-Three

  Fifty-Four

  Fifty-Five

  Fifty-Six

  Fifty-Seven

  Fifty-Eight

  Fifty-Nine

  Sixty

  Sixty-One

  Sixty-Two

  Sixty-Three

  Sixty-Four

  Sixty-Five

  Sixty-Six

  Sixty-Seven

  Sixty-Eight

  Sixty-Nine

  Seventy

  Seventy-One

  Seventy-Two

  Seventy-Three

  Seventy-Four

  Seventy-Five

  Seventy-Six

  Seventy-Seven

  Seventy-Eight

  Seventy-Nine

  Eighty

  Eighty-One

  Eighty-Two

  Eighty-Three

  Eighty-Four

  Eighty-Five

  Eighty-Six

  Eighty-Seven

  Eighty-Eight

  Eighty-Nine

  Ninety

  Ninety-One

  Ninety-Two

  Ninety-Three

  Ninety-Four

  Ninety-Five

  Ninety-Six

  Excerpt From Book Two

  One

  AREL STOOD IN the deep shadows of the alley, watching the old, graying rat a few yards away. She was careful as she went about her nightly routine. Searching the overflowing cans of garbage for food, she pushed aside certain offerings in favor of other more enticing bits of half-eaten meat, vegetables and slightly spoiled fruit. When it came to dessert, she gave a stale donut a delicate nibble. She’d chosen a fairly balanced diet. Perhaps that’s why she’d lived on the street for as long and as well as she had. Her eyes were still bright, alert and wary of danger.

  But how quickly she’ll be dead.

  After a century of hunting, Arel had become skillful at ending a life.

  How quickly she’ll be dead if I have enough strength left to kill her.

  He leaned wearily against the grimy, damp wall. His breath came in short gasps. Covering his nose and mouth, he detested the smell of rot and decay. He hated that he had to frequent such squalid places. A hand on his shoulder encouraged him. It was Michael’s hand, shoring him up, making sure that he followed through with the task at hand.

  Arel scowled in disgust. “No man should have to sink to this level of hell to survive,” he whispered.

  But Arel wasn’t simply a man. He was a vampire, a despicable creature, a parasite. He had no choice in the matter. He had to have blood. He gritted his teeth and took in a final, steadying breath as he poised for the kill. When he sprung forward, his ailing body put all of its meager muscle into the act. Even if his mind rebelled at the thought of killing, the physical part of him was desperate and in dire need. He surprised the rat and had her in his grasp on the first try. A quick snap of her neck followed, and she was limp in his hand. It was a small comfort to know she never had a chance to comprehend her fate. Just a moment befor
e, she’d been swallowing a mouthful of sugary sweetness.

  Arel knew he had to feed at once, drink the rat’s warm blood and be done with it. Instead his attention traveled from the rat's small body to Michael. As his friend walked over, Arel stared at him with hard, insistent eyes. “I can’t go on like this,” he panted. “You promised that you’d help me. You held out hope. You made me believe that things could change, but nothing has changed.”

  Michael paused a few feet away. “Feed yourself quickly. It’ll be easier. You’ve been losing ground again. Your body needs—”

  “Forget my body! What does my soul need? Only you can give me that!” Arel’s golden eyes flared, but he swayed with the outburst. “I can handle what we talked about. My will is stronger than ever. Haven’t I proven that? I’ve won the battle with this accursed blight that was forced on me, kept it under lock and key forever. I may have to have blood to stay alive, but never once have I allowed the beast in me to relish the act of taking a life.”

  “This is about more than your willpower. This is about letting go of everything you think you need to hold your world together.”

  Arel closed the gap between them. He’d been holding the rat close, hating to touch it and yet his bony hand, his physical neediness, had clung to it. Now he held up the rodent and thrust it into Michael's face. “What world are you talking about, Michael? This is my world!”

  As the rat dangled between them, Michael stepped back. “I don’t think you’re ready.”

  “I don’t give a damn what you think!” Arel’s shout echoed off the crumbling walls, making him glance around furtively like the rat. Had someone heard him? Would someone or something come out of the darkness and snatch him up next.

  It already has, you idiot. Stop being paranoid, you’re a hundred years too late for that.

  “I’m sorry, Michael. I didn’t mean it,” he recanted, but he didn’t withdraw his plea. He used his other hand to swipe at the deep split in his lip. It was painful and bleeding, another punishment for neglecting his body. “You know I’m tired, too tired to want to go on like this.”

  “I’m sorry too.”

  Arel dropped the rat and glared back. “I swear to you, if you don’t help me, I swear that I’ll starve myself to death this time. I will, I’ll do it!”

  “Don’t go down that road again. There’s no point.”

  Arel knew that Michael was right. Even if he stopped hunting, he wouldn’t die, at least not for a very long time.

  I’d be a living skeleton, helpless to turn off my brain. It’d be like it was the last time.

  Michael stooped down and picked up the rat. He held it out. “Just a little . . . a few sips.”

  Arel stared back, his stomach twisting inside, gnawing at its own emptiness, demanding he do something to stop its torment. He almost reached into his coat to retrieve the folding knife that he carried to slit the animal’s throat. Vampire or not, he didn’t have fangs and biting the furry rodent was too repulsive to consider. Still, he’d even been desperate enough to do such things in the past, before he found ways to make his job easier. But this time his hand never made it to the knife. “No, I can’t.”

  He walked past Michael, moving unsteadily towards the street, squinting. Ahead, the street light was glaringly bright, but he had to get away from the alley, with its stench and its ugliness. “To hell with you and all of it.”

  Michael called to him. “Arel, please, come back. Take care of yourself. You need your strength.”

  Arel paused and swallowed hard, trying to clear the rising bile in his throat. “I believed in you, Michael. I believed in what you’ve been telling me. Now I know it’s all lies. There’s no love in this world. There’s no redemption.”

  Michael came forward again. “We’ve talked about this before. I have a responsibility to you. You know the dangers you’d be facing.”

  Arel’s chest tightened when he looked up. Michael’s face was usually compassionate, but unyielding. Now it showed the slightest sign of wavering. He saw his chance and took it. “I’ll try my best, I promise you.” His voice rose in a ragged, breathless plea. “Please, Michael, have faith in me. You want me to have faith in what you believe. Now you have to take a chance on me.”

  When Michael didn’t answer, Arel pressed on, grabbing Michael’s hand, placing it on his chest. “You and I both know a vampire isn’t dead, at least not this one. No, that would be easy, wouldn’t it? To have no breath, no heartbeat and no life in me would be wonderful. There’d be no pain. But this heart feels everything more acutely than any normal, human heart. I can’t stand the torment any longer. Help me!”

  Michael’s pale, blue eyes traveled slowly over Arel’s wasted form. After a moment, his bright gaze flickered with renewed intensity. “Wait here. I have to take care of something,” he said as he stepped away.

  “What?” Arel's breath was cut short by disappointment as he watched Michael walk briskly back into the inner depths of the alley. Clearly, he’d failed Michael’s test.

  What more can I say? What more does he want from me?

  He let a hopeless gloom settle in as he moved towards the street again. He tried to shade his eyes from the brilliance of the fluorescent lamp ahead. His senses were acute, but that wasn’t what bothered him now. The light frightened him.

  When the light exposes you, you're like that rat. Others can hunt you down and destroy you.

  The only light Arel didn’t fear was Michael’s light. He’d glimpsed it once or twice when Michael’s body seemed unable to totally contain it. But Michael’s light wasn’t of the world. If he could align himself with Michael’s light, it would enfold him in a sheath of protection forever.

  If Michael helped me, no one would be able to find me.

  When Michael returned, Arel realized why he had gone back into the shadows. He’d tended to the dead rat, thanked her for her sacrifice as he always did.

  “I’m sorry that I killed her for nothing.”

  “It’s okay,” Michael said, smiling at him.

  Arel caught a glimpse of movement in the alley. A small form scurried about, seeking a place to hide. Michael had reversed the hold of death. He’d given back what Arel had taken.

  Stumbling forward, he grabbed Michael’s shirt, clinging to it with trembling fingers. “Help me like you helped that animal. Restore what’s been taken from me! My body lives on and on, but there’s nothing here for me but days of emptiness and hellish nights. Help me find some measure of peace.”

  Michael’s face turned somber and exacting. “There are no guarantees with what I can give you.”

  Michael's words, and the warning behind them, filled the damp, night air. Promise and peril hung suspended as Arel closed his eyes, connecting with the caged creature within. “I’ll do anything to rid myself of this curse.”

  “That’s not good enough.”

  “It’s good enough for me. It’s my life. I want it back.”

  “Dear friend, you won’t be able to cage what will be loosed in you this time.”

  “You talk about it as if it’s a demon.”

  “Not a demon, but it is a force that won’t let anything stand in its way. As it begins to clear the darkness, not just the curse, everything you’ve ever hidden away will be under siege.”

  Arel shrugged. “So what would I be giving up?” He straightened his shoulders. “I want this.”

  Michael studied him again and then lifted his eyes to the heavens. When his gaze returned to Arel, he opened his arms wide, fully offering himself. “So be it.”

  The gesture was unexpected. Arel had been waiting for so long, and now the moment he’d prayed for had arrived. He hesitated. He was committed, but he didn’t know how to proceed.

  “Take what you need,” Michael said quietly.

  As Arel obeyed and came forward, his heart was as anxious and worn as his pleas. Yet, when he embraced Michael, it synced with Michael’s calming, steady vessel, giving Arel more strength to do what he needed to d
o. He put his face close to Michael’s neck, but a last wave of doubt made him pause. Was this moment real, or had he gone insane after so many years of misery and despair? Was Michael truly a being of light? Was he an angel, disguised in flesh and bone?

  Arel pushed the questions aside.

  No matter what, I know Michael’s never been anything but a friend.

  Placing his mouth on Michael’s skin, he inhaled, needing to banish the horrid smell of the alley. The scent of roses was his reward. He never got over that one. Michael, looking like a Norseman ready for ships and the sea, always carried the delicate scent of the rose on his person. The scent lingered for a moment before Arel’s needs surfaced again. He had never been so hungry, not just for sustenance, but for something more pressing. His very soul was starving.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, trying to restrain himself. He wished at that moment that he did have sharp fangs, that he wouldn’t hurt Michael when he bit him. “Should I use my knife?”

  “No, it’s fine. You’ll see.”

  Arel’s parched, bleeding lips cracked wider as he positioned himself, his own blood already anointing Michael’s neck. For a moment he swayed, gathering strength, like he did before he took the rat. When he finally bit down, it was quick and instinctive, but the taste of blood wasn’t like that of a rat. He was sure it wasn’t like human blood either. Instead, a rare, liquid ambrosia filled his mouth. It was something blessed, something holy. As soon as he swallowed the first mouthful, the pain in his stomach began to ease. As he continued to feast, something in the blood blotted out the fear that lived in his every thought. It stopped the shakiness in his hands. He was immediately stronger, able to grasp Michael tighter. Soon he was lost in a heady rapture. He had nothing inside of him telling him to stop, no conscience or guilt as he took in greedy, blissful gulps of the exquisite stuff.

  Yet, Arel had no power to continue when Michael finally pushed him away, staring at him with compassionate eyes. “I’m sorry about what’s coming,” Michael warned.

  * * * * *

  Late that night, as Arel lay on his bed, he waited for something to happen. When he had been made a vampire, the effect was immediate. So much pain, so much blind panic followed. He’d known at once he was doomed. But he didn’t feel pain now, even though it had been hours since Michael had shared his blood. Instead, he felt strangely quiet. His body was satisfied. His mind was motionless. There was a stillness around him, like the pause between breaths.