Biting Winds

by Shawna Ireland

  Thaddeus, now holding the splintered wood he collected from the floor when the nurse dropped it, pointed it at the man who looked like his son, and sounded like his son, and lay in his son’s bed. The same bed that his son was pronounced dead in. “Who are you?”

  “Father,” stammered Sangio, baffled by his father’s behavior. “It is I, Father. Sangio Alexandre Danvonne. You are scaring me.”

  “What are you doing here?” Thaddeus continued with the questioning.

  “I live here!” Sangio began feeling more frustrated than confused. “I was attacked by a woman after my party, and I woke up here.” He lifted his arms, shielding his chest to protect himself from that which he did not understand.

  When she realized that he was now able to move his limbs, the nurse who was able to stand herself back up, let out a final scream before passing out and crumpling gracefully against the wall, which broke what would have been a painful fall.

  “Tell me then, are you from the devil?” Thaddeus asked.

  “Are you mad, Father? I rebuke the devil just as you have taught me my entire life. I rebuke him, you hear?” Sangio jumped from the bed and backed into a corner, away from the strange events.

  However, his movements were so swift and smooth that even Sangio could not deny that there was something wrong, something unnatural, happening to him.

  Sangio froze.

  Thaddeus and Drake paused for a second, jaws gaping open, and slowly backed towards the bedroom door, unsure of their next move.

  “I’ll kill the bitch!” Drake screamed as he turned to run out of the room, to finish off the caged woman in the barn, the one who infected---who killed his brother.

  With all the strength he could muster, Thaddeus lunged forward, tackling his taller and stronger son, bringing him hard onto the floor with a grunt as the air escaped his lungs in a quick, deep gust.

  “Drake! Stop! Use your head son. She is the only one who can help us understand this infection. She is the only link to saving your brother’s life. If you kill her, you kill Sangio.”

  “Please,” Sangio pleaded with a rough, dry voice. “I need water!”

  Thaddeus and Drake looked over at Sangio, standing before them pale and shaking, holding his throat, staring back at them with dark, shadowy eyes, but eyes that nonetheless belonged to the son of Thaddeus and brother of Drake.

  They lifted themselves off the floor, knowing there was no way they could kill him. They would not lose Sangio a second time.

  Chapter 22

  "She refuses to speak, Father! She is as listless as my brother and lies in that cage wasting away. I can practically count every bone in her body. I cannot lose my brother. I must have answers.”

  Drake paced his father’s office, with rage for the woman, and sorrow for his brother, though they are of the same kind. Regardless, she did this to him, and Drake wanted to kill her with his bare hands, a feeling that he had never had for a woman in his life. Then again, he was not convinced that she was a woman. The sounds that came from her, the red-eyed stares, the unnatural healing, and the fact that she was still alive convinced Drake that she was a demon, if not a manifestation of Satan himself. Drake paused in front of his father’s desk, banging his fists down hard.

  “Let me try,” Sangio urged Drake, who had refused to allow him near her until this point. “Tell me what my options are Drake? Do you have another plan?” he rebuked at the disapproving look of his older, protective brother.

  Drake shook his head, looking down at his hands wanting nothing more than to protect his baby brother as he had promised his mother on her death bed.

  “I see no other way,” Thaddeus interjected. “I don’t see what further harm she could do to him in her weakened state. When the sun goes down, Sangio, you will go to the barn. We cannot risk another burn like you suffered yesterday, despite the swift healing.”

  Sangio spent the rest of the afternoon reassuring his nurse, Hannah, that he would return safely. After scaring her half to death with his return from the dead, Sangio spent the last three days trying to convince her that he was not from the devil, and allowed her to test all her godly superstitions on him. He wore garlic, held a crucifix, read from the Bible, and carried a rabbit foot.

  In all actuality, Hannah was just as much a prisoner in their home as the wicked woman in the barn. After witnessing the bizarre happenings of the Danvonne house, Thaddeus informed Hannah that their family’s safety would be jeopardized if he allowed her to leave, and that he needed time to think about how he could protect his family. When he figured it out, she would be released.

  Hannah, knowing the Danvonne family for years, was angrier than scared, but it took merel hours with Sangio for her to realize that he was not going to hurt her. Soon enough, Hannah was brainstorming ideas to save Sangio, if not cure him, with his family. Hannah mixed herbs, brewed Absinthe, mixed cocaine in his wine, fixed hearty stews, and when he was unable to hold that down, she tried different broths her ancestors passed down to treat different ailments.

  Unsure whether it was Sangio’s compassionate eyes, intelligence, or quick wit that drew her in, Hannah spent every waking minute she had with him. She hung on to the excuse that she was doing her job as a nurse, but the games of dominoes, chess, checkers, and solitaire and nightly strolls in the rose garden were hard to chalk up to her profession.

  “Sangio,” Hannah began one night as they strolled through the barren vineyards, “A few days ago I could not imagine a world with your kind in it, to the point that I almost drove a stake through your heart. Now, I cannot imagine a world without you in it,” she said, turning to face a shocked Sangio.

  “Hannah. I am so sorry this has been forced on you. I never--”

  “Stop!” Hannah held her finger, covered in a white laced glove to his lips. “What is done, is done. I cannot help it now. I love you, Sangio, and I will go from one end of the earth to the other, in search of a cure for this curse. I will not watch you die!”

  “Then I shall fight, Hannah. I will conquer this curse, and we will share a long life together.” And he pulled Hannah to his chest, allowing her tears to run down his Inverness cape, and onto his high leather boots. It was time to talk to the monster.

  Chapter 23

  Sangio approached the barn, a boasting right for their family. It stood over fifty feet high and was fitted with hand-hewn oak logs and a roof designed with hand-split oak shingles covering the natural earth floor. For boasting purposes and stability his grandfather built a three-foot high limestone border around the base of the barn.

  The barn had been used for many things over the years, aside from fermenting, bottling, and corking the family wines. As schoolboys, Sangio and Drake held many dances and courted many young ladies throughout the floors and lofts of this remarkable structure.

  This was the first time Sangio could ever remember approaching the heavy barn doors with apprehension, and felt sick as he heard the iron hinges creak against his pull, making a mental note to get them lubricated when he was feeling better.

  The monster he had remembered since his awakening was much larger in stature than this tiny heap of bones. She looked more like a child, than the fanged beast that attacked him three nights prior.

  She laid on her side on the bottom of the steel bear cage, her ankles and wrists shackled and secured with a chain of iron rings mounted to the wall behind the cage. Her long, black hair was greasy and matted with dirt and leaves, sprawled all around her, covering her face, which was facing Sangio’s direction. He was sure she could see him, though he could not see her eyes.

  “For what it’s worth, I did not intend to let you live,” the raspy voice from the cage informed him as she slowly lifted herself into a sitting position, leaning forward on her palms.

  “And for this I should be grateful?” Sangio demanded, but the only response she gave was a bitter laugh. “I asked you a question, and you should be obliged to answer me. I am the last one standing in between you and the muzzle of m
y brother’s gun.”

  “Yes!” she snapped.

  “Yes?”

  “Yes! Yes! Yes!” she threw her head back and laughed, and suddenly she snapped her head forward and looked straight into Sangio’s eyes. “Death would be easy compared to the curse I have fated you with.”

  “Enough with the melodramatics. What the hell are you?” Sangio asked, despite fearing the answer.

  “You mean to ask what are we, because you turned into my kind the second you drew your last breath.”

  “Don’t play games with me, beast. What are you?” Sangio grabbed a steel fence post from the corner of the barn and bent it in half. He dropped it to the ground as if it were scalding, astonished by his own strength.

  "We,” she laughed again, “are blood suckers, angels of death, demons, beasts, and monsters as your family described! You may call us many things, but in the end we are what we are. We are vampires,” she spat with fury.

  “Vampires!” Sangio took his turn laughing now, though it was not a laugh of a man humored because Sangio felt a ring of truth to this admission. “Nonsense! Vampires are folklore. Do not waste my time, girl! How do I cure this illness?”

  “You idiot! This is no plague. There is no herb or witchery to fix it. There is no cure, not even death, as you cannot kill what is already dead. You, boy, are a vampire, and you will feed on human blood as I do. You will hide from the sunlight during the day, so the sun does not incinerate you, and you will feed by night, just as I do. Now let me go, and I will show you what you need to know. Otherwise, you will writhe in agony as I see you already are. I assure you, you will not die of this. Your thirst for blood will get stronger than you are, and unless you can control it, you will soon enough slaughter the people you love.”

  “Are you a spawn of Satan?” Sangio asked the same question that his father asked him days ago in his bedroom.

  “I am from my mother and father, just as you. Vampires are not born. They are humans who are turned by other vampires. And you, fellow vampire, were a mistake. Had your father not shot me I would have finished my kill and spared you this curse.” And despite the fierceness of her voice Sangio heard true, sincere regret.

  He sat on a wine barrel, harder than he expected, for only a couple of seconds before jumping up again, pacing the barn. “There must be something else. Something besides blood. Human blood. It’s apprehensible.”

  “Let me know when you figure it out because I’ve not found a substitute in my fifty-something-years.”

  “You are in your fifties?” Sangio stared, now flabbergasted.

  “Seventies if you count my human years! I haven’t aged a day since...”

  “Please continue.” Sangio needed to understand his fate.

  “Since I was fourteen-years old. That is when my mother sold me to the highest bidder, who happened to be in the market for a life long mate, or several should I say. That was the end of my life. He wasted no time turning me, and then tossing me to the side to make the transformation, alone. So much for romance.” Then perking up a bit, she continued. “So, clearly, my mother's was the first human life I took. Not the first blood I drank, but by far the best.”

  "Your own mother?"

  "Sort of, but that is a story I save for friends over a glass of blood."

  “Human blood!”

  “Must you repeat everything I say?”

  “Where is he now? The man who turned you?”

  “He was no man, and he had plenty of other blood sucking whores to replace me when I didn’t worship the ground he walked on. I escaped, just as I plan on escaping here, unless you make it easy on me and just let me go.”

  Sangio had no answer for her as he still had many questions himself. He walked away from her, her head bowed, and her greasy hair once again covering her face, but this time it hid the fresh tears of a tortured child.

  Sangio took slow, deliberate steps heading back to the mansion, and decided to take a brief walk through the woods behind the barn to sort his thoughts. He was positive his father would hear the crazed stories of the wild child, and send Drake out to end her life. Hannah would flee for sure, and why shouldn’t she? If it were true, her life was in danger every second she was with him. If it were all lies, well, sometimes the unknown was even darker than the known. He needed to think, to absorb the damning information he was expected to deliver to his family.

  The truth be told, every time the girl mentioned blood his senses perked up, nerves tingled, tongue and palate salivated, and his stomach came alive with anticipation. He wanted blood. He was light headed, and believed the girl when she said his thirst would get stronger than he was because he felt the urge overcoming his senses already.

  Before he even reached the steps of the mansion, he saw Hannah sitting on the porch. She stood up and met him at the bottom of the cascading staircase, and asked him if the girl spoke to him. Perhaps he should have told her the truth, but he was not prepared to comfort Hannah, when he was inconsolable himself. So, he told her that the girl spewed off a story of lies and fairy tales and that he needed time to decipher the information.

  “Sangio, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about your illness. You are so weak, and you are disappearing before my eyes. I wonder if you would benefit from a blood transfusion since the extra fluids did not help. Perhaps your brother would be willing to give you a pint or two. It's worth a try.” Hannah offered a humane consumption of blood, without even knowing the complexity of her offer.

  "Is that even possible? I haven't heard of a successful transfusion to date."

  "You're right, but the patients did not die from the transfusion. They died from their origional illness. It cannot hurt to try."

  Sangio tried to hide his enthusiasm, but could not. He grabbed her by the shoulders, smiled down upon her and told her she was a genius.

  “I have a key to Dr. Klas’ medical clinic, Sangio. I could go to town and get some sterile supplies. I need a few needles and tubes for transfusions,” she offered. “Please let me do this for you. For us!” she added hastily.

  "Do you know how to do this without hurting my brother?"

  "I do."

  "And do you believe it will help me?"

  "I don't know," she admitted, looking down at her feet.

  "It's a risk."

  "I have no other suggestions. I have nothing more to offer than this chance. It's a risk, but you stand a greater chance of death by doing nothing."

  “How do I know you will return?” Sangio asked.

  “You have to trust me.” Hannah smiled into his eyes as she held her hand over where his heart had once beat.

  The idea of Hannah bringing him blood, his new life force, was repulsive to his mind, but erotic to all of his other senses. He found it necessary to accept Hannah’s offer, but he would have to get his father and Drake to agree, without revealing that he was a vampire.

  Chapter 24

  "This is a bad idea.” Thaddeus set his scotch down on the desk, walked over to the veranda window and looked outside at nothing at all.

  His mind held all the focus, and there was none left for his eyes as he rubbed his throbbing temples, wondering how this had become his fate. The fate of his youngest son. He had been there for every celebration and disappointment for his boys their entire life.

  He watched every milestone and helped them through every injury from scratches to broken cervical collars, and from first dates, to the death of his eldest son’s wife. He could not find his way out of this one, but he wasn’t prepared to give up either.

  “Nothing good can come of this, Sangio. She will ride into town screaming that you are from the devil. She will convince the town folk that you must be killed, just as she tried to convince your own brother and father," Drake interjected, his voice almost pleading his brother to come to his senses.

  “I am weak, brother. I’ve tried everything you’ve thrown my way. Nothing has worked. A blood transfusion is a feasible suggestion.”

  But Dra
ke was still shaking his head in disagreement.

  “Is this it then Drake? This is our life? How long do we hold Hannah captive for? We take away her life for mine? This is absurd,” Sangio huffed with what little energy he could muster for this debate.

  “She will not come back,” Drake stated.

  “She will,” Sangio assured. “She professed her love to me. She assured me that she wants to help me and promised to return.”

  “It’s too big of a risk to take. We don’t even know if it will work,” Drake argued.

  “It will work,” Sangio tried to convince him.

  “Why? Because the monster said it would?” Drake kicked over the potted plant on the side of his father’s desk, spilling black soil onto the ornate rug.

  “Yes.”

  “And you believe her, son?” Thaddeus interjected.

  “What else do I have, Father? What is left to try?

  “Then Hannah will go,” Thaddeus directed, despite Drake’s angry protests.

  Hannah rode off towards town on Sangio’s prized quarter horse. She requested to ride alone because if someone spotted her going into the clinic, nothing would be suspected. She had a habit of going to the clinic all hours of the night to get supplies to take to Dr. Klas while he was tending to patients in their home or on their land. Taking another person with her would draw attention, and risk getting caught.

  Had Sangio known that Hannah followed him to the barn, or seen the fear in her eyes when she overheard his conversation with the captured vampire, he would not have let her go into town. If he looked deeper into her eyes and saw the revulsion when he accepted her offer to steal blood for his transfusions, then he would not have let her go, but he was distracted by her compassionate offer, and that was the break Hannah hoped for all along.