Willow Dark Storm

by ZL Morris

  He wrestles the bags into one hand, then creates a space on the counter by shoving a few blood bags aside. The grocery bags hit the counter with a thud. “I didn’t realise the humans had so many different types. I wasn’t sure which one you’d be happy with, so I got one of each.”

  Surprised he bought so many, I’m unsure of how to respond, and it comes out as a question without my meaning to. “I-I, um… thank you?”

  He unloads a few spray bottles before he glances up and shrugs. “No problem. I’m under strict instructions to get anything you need and to make sure you’re comfortable.” He picks up a bottle and sniffs the top. His face scrunches up as though he smelt something bad as he plonks it back on the counter. “So how do you want to do this?”

  My face twitches, and I’m shocked a smile graces my face. I’ve not smiled in months. I’ve had no reason to. The stranger is cute, but I can’t say I hold an attraction towards him, not like I do the triplets. That must be hero worship for saving me from those assholes.

  Remembering the stranger asked a question, I give him my full attention. He waits for me to give him an order. Not wanting him to feel like buying the cleaning supplies is a waste of time, I ignore the rumble of hunger and give him instructions. “I think if the fridge is empty, then we should start with making sure it’s hygienic and suitable for human food. Then once the bags have been moved off the counter, I can get that cleaned too. I-if that’s okay?”

  He smiles at me and salutes. “Sure thing, boss.”

  My head shoots up in surprise. My mouth opens to say something, but the words die in my throat. I don’t know how to explain I’m not his boss. I don’t know this person, and I don’t want to say something that might put me on his shit list. So instead, I keep quiet. While he empties the last few bags out of the fridge, I search the cupboards for something I can use to clean the fridge out with. Unable to find any supplies in the usual places, I spot some paper towels on the counter and decide they’ll have to do.

  The friendly stranger scrapes the rest of the jellied blood off the bottom, then transfers the blood bags off the counter and carries them out a side door to what I assume is a pantry of some kind. Not comfortable enough with the situation to see what is out the door he left through, I continue with making sure everything is sterile. My tummy still feels a little funny, but at least everything being clean eases some of the sickly feeling.

  Once finished with my cleaning spree, I search for a suitable place for the cleaning supplies. Finding the cupboard under the sink empty, I carefully stack all the bottles in it. I do one last sweep to make sure everything has been wiped down, then I eye the bag of food on the counter.

  Curiosity goes through me at what they might have bought, so I stick my nose in the huge shopping bag and rummage through it. All the meat they’ve bought is red—not a single pork chop or chicken in sight. A shudder runs through me at the thought of eating it raw.

  A sigh escapes when I look around the kitchen and notice an oven. At least, I’ll be able to cook the food, but I do wonder why they’d have one. With the amount of blood bags in that fridge, it’s a sure thing they don’t have a human food diet. So why would they need a kitchen?

  After I place the meat, veggies, and a few pieces of fruit into the fridge, the kitchen door swings open. I glance over my shoulder to figure out who entered and immediately tense up. The three brothers are here but are in the company of two others. I try not to be obvious in my examination of the male and female, but I search for the tell-tale fangs and quickly spot them. A door sounds off to the side, and I look at the pantry in confusion. Did the stranger just leave?

  Shutting the fridge door, I slowly turn around, and my eyes catch Lazarus’s. He frowns at me before moving to my side, and he must have read my nervous thoughts. I’d be irritated by it, but I’m more relieved he can know what I’m thinking without me embarrassing myself in front of the newcomers.

  Zadimus directs the two strangers into the kitchen, and he frowns at the barstool I left by the sink. His confused but cute frown makes me giggle, and I slap a hand over my mouth in an effort to smother the noise.

  “Hestia, Raoul,” Zadimus says. “This is Willow. She’ll be staying here for the foreseeable future.”

  They nod at him and simultaneously turn in my direction while he carries on talking to me.

  “These two will be your personal guides. They’ll show you around the grounds tomorrow. If for some reason my brothers or I can’t be with you, then one of these two will be. I don’t want you to think it’s dangerous here, but we need to cover all bases.”

  Not knowing what to say but understanding he’s right about it not being safe for me to wander around alone, I nod so he knows I understand his reasoning. Zadimus smiles before he turns his attention back to the others, and I chew my nails since it’s a little awkward to idly stand there like an idiot.

  Lazarus leans down towards my ear and quietly says, “You’re welcome to start the food if you’re hungry. None of us can cook, but we can help you prepare some of the vegetables if you’d like?”

  “Okay, thank you.”

  Less awkward now I’ve been given a task, I make quick work of grabbing the necessary things out of the fridge, so I can prepare a meal. I leave the piece of steak on the counter until I’m ready for it, and I’m peeling the second potato when the kitchen door opens.

  With a quick glance over my shoulder, three more vampires join us. They silently stand with the others and watch as I go through the motions of preparing the food. Zadimus leaves us, but I don’t have time to wonder where he’s gone before he returns. He places four trays on the counter in front of me. I’m unable to keep the surprise off on my face when I spot the labels still attached and realise Cassius must have bought new cooking trays for the food. I offer him a quick thank you and get back to the task at hand.

  Unsure what I want to eat, I rummage through the fridge. Spotting a tub of cream, I decide potato au gratin is the quickest thing to make while I cook and rest the steak. After I show him how to do it, Lazarus helps me layer the potatoes, and we pour the cream between each layer.

  Shy and a little nervous, I hesitate in voicing my question. I look up, and my eyes lock with Idris. With their mind-reading ability, I decide to use it to my advantage. Is there any pepper?

  He softly smiles and nods before disappearing through the same door Zadimus did only moments before. He returns with a brand-new pepper shaker.

  “Thank you.” I make quick work of peeling the plastic wrapping from around the lid and shake a generous amount over the potatoes but stop short when several bouts of sneezing start up around me.

  Surprised, I look up at the vast number of vampires who have all squeezed themselves into the space between the island and the sink, and the pepper is the cause of their sneezing. Two new vampires stand with Zadimus, his brothers, and the two guards. With a snigger, I put the cap back on to stop their suffering. A collective sigh of relief makes me laugh more.

  Happy the gratin is finished, I pick up the tray and walk around to the oven. My hand rubs the back of my neck while I stare at the dials. It takes me a few minutes to figure out which ones I need to turn for the gas to light. After placing the tray inside the oven, I turn around and burst out laughing.

  All the vampires would’ve had their backs towards me, but they’ve moved around the island so they can still watch what I’m doing. I’m almost tempted to play a game. If I go left, will they move to the right?

  Deciding it’s probably not best to play games with vampires, and especially ones I don’t know, I get on with the task of tidying up. With the steak not needing much time to cook, I grab the knives and peeler so I can wash them while I wait.

  A huge bang sounds from outside the kitchen door before it bursts open. Startled, I unintentionally squeeze the blade I was washing and drop the knife when my palm stings. Unfortunately for me, I cut my palm.

  And all hell breaks loose.

  Lazarus grabs me and
shoves me behind him, effectively wedging me between him and the counter which causes the straps of leather to harshly bite into my chest. The two vamps who entered halfway through me preparing the food go into a frenzy and try to fly across the counter to get at me. I look from behind Lazarus’s shoulder, and their eyes have turned amber. From the little I know of their different eye colours so far, amber isn’t a colour I want to see.

  Several voices shout, and the two who were trying to get to me are grabbed and slammed harshly onto the counter. Their mouths open wide, and their teeth snap at me. In frustration at not being able to get to me, they let out blood-curdling screams.

  My eyes grow impossibly wide in horror as the guards pick up the two and pull them, kicking and screaming, from the room with Zadimus following behind them.

  I don’t know how long I stand there, but I’m brought back to reality with a hiss when something is pressed into my injured palm. Dazed, I look up into the eyes of Idris, only to realise his eyes are black. I try to recoil, but Lazarus’s body still pins me to the counter. I’ve no way to escape.

  “Shhh, you’re all right. I just need to stop the bleeding.” Idris’s soft voice tries to reassure me.

  Numb from shock, I stare at my hand. I’m going to need stitches. Idris raises my hand towards his mouth, and my body tenses up in fright. I squeeze my hand into a fist, so he can’t gain access to it. Although making a fist isn’t the wisest choice because my palm instantly becomes slicker with blood.

  Slowly but gently, he pries my fingers apart and gives my palm a quick inspection before raising my hand to his face once more. Closing my eyes in fear, something cool presses against my hand. My eyes pop open, only I wish they hadn’t. I’m unable to close them when I catch sight of what he’s doing, so instead, with morbid fascination, I watch Idris lick the wound.

  Time slows down between the three of us. I’ve no clue what he’s doing to me, but my hand tingles. I lose count of how many times he strokes his tongue across my hand before he pulls away slightly to inspect it once more.

  Finally, Lazarus moves away from me, just enough so I’m able to move out from behind him but still within reach. I’m thankful his leather straps across his torso aren’t digging into me any longer. Both men flank me while Idris pushes my hand towards the sink. He turns the tap to warm and places my hand under the stream to clean off the blood.

  Confused, I stay quiet while he continues to wash my hand. Once he’s finished, all I can do is stare in astonishment. The cut on my hand is healed. I blink a few times to make sure I’m not seeing things and check again.

  Oh my! How the fudge did they do that?

  Chapter Six

  My face scrunches up in confusion when Lazarus steps away, grabs a paper towel, and passes it to Idris. Idris takes my wet hand and gently dries it. Once dry, he raises my hand so he can inspect it. He turns my hand each way while he runs his fingers across my palm that now shows no signs of injury.

  I’m not sure if I should ask, but I want to understand. Swallowing thickly, I lick my lips. “H-h-how did you do it?”

  Glancing between them for some sort of explanation, I notice Idris’ eyes slowly change from onyx to purple, but a darker purple than normal. I can only guess he’s still angry, but not as much as he was before.

  “I-I-I’m sorry, it’s just… all that really did just take place, didn’t it? I’m not completely losing my mind, am I?”

  Both raise a hand at the same time to cup both sides of my face. Their fingers gently hold the back of my neck in exactly the same spot. Whoa! Is this some triplet thing, or some sort of vampire synchronised shit? They both laugh, and I realise too late it’s because of my thoughts. Will I ever be able to keep my thoughts private?

  Lazarus explains through his laughter. “I think it’s more a triplet ability than a vampire one. As for your hand, Idris licked it because we have a healing agent in our saliva.” Confusion must show on my face because he goes on to explain. “When we feed, we don’t want our donors to bleed out. Our saliva contains a coagulant which helps the wound heal after we’ve fed on them. Normally, with a lick or two, our saliva mixes with the host and the holes close, but because of the size of the cut, Idris had more work to do.”

  Not really knowing what to say, I decide to store that information away for later and settle with offering him a nod. No longer distracted by everything around me, I smell something burning. Confused, I frown, not knowing where the smell could be coming from. Suddenly, I remember my dinner. Oh hell!

  The potatoes are probably burnt by now, and I’m not sure if I can salvage the steak after a vampire was slammed onto it. By the looks of it, it’s as flat as can be. My nose wrinkles in disgust before I once again remember the potatoes. I slowly pull away from the guys, so they know I want to move, then I quickly grab the oven-glove and open the oven door.

  The heat escaping from the oven momentarily blinds me. Waving my hand helps the hot air clear some before I take the tray out, grab a fork, and inspect my dinner. It’s not as bad as I thought it might be. Only the top and bottom layer are burnt beyond repair. Reaching for the cooker to turn it off, I realise I turned the oven up too high which is why the top layer looks like it’s been dumped on a furnace. Being too tired to cook anything else without any further mishaps, I decide the best thing to do is to scoop the less-burnt bits into a bowl and eat what is edible.

  Plonking the half-full bowl on the counter and my ass on a stool, I only manage to chow down five mouthfuls of the potatoes before I begin to feel ill. Dumping my fork into the half-full bowl, I push it away while I watch the guys move around the kitchen, quietly tidying up the mess that was made in the commotion.

  After struggling to swallow the last mouthful, I murmur, “I was going to do that.”

  Lazarus shrugs and carries on with his task. “It’s quite all right, Callidora. We may not be able to cook, but we can clean.”

  My mouth opens to ask what Callidora means, but a scream from outside causes the words to lodge in my throat. Confused by the noise, I stare at them, hoping to gain knowledge of what’s going on by their reactions. But I’m unable to analyse them sufficiently before another scream joins with the first. The hairs stand up on the back of my neck, and chills race down my spine at the anguish and terror I recognise in them. Memories of my time with the wolves flood my mind. I doubt I’ll ever forget the sounds that echoed through the night.

  With a huge amount of effort, I force myself to ask, “Wh-what was that?”

  With a glance at their faces, I notice their eyes have changed to black. They’re angry.

  The screams become louder, and I place my hands over my ears in an attempt to block out the noise. But it doesn’t work.

  I raise my voice to be heard over the terrifying sounds. “Who’s screaming like that? What’s happening?”

  Lazarus and Idris don’t answer my question, and instead, they turn to stare out the kitchen window and watch whatever is taking place. Rather than wait for them to explain to me what’s going on, I move to the window to see for myself.

  The two vampires who tried to attack me are on their knees in the garden. Zadimus stands behind them with his hands on his hips while several others hold them so they can’t escape. Zadimus says something, but I’m unable to pick up on it. He stops talking. I watch in horror as Zadimus grabs the first vampire by the ears, and with a strength I didn’t know he possessed, he pulls the head clean off, disconnecting it from the body.

  The four vampires that held him still let go, and the decapitated body falls in a jumbled heap. I stare at his body at it turns to ash. I cover my ears when the second vampire screams even louder.

  Not wanting them to kill him too, I decide to race through the house instead of using the door in the kitchen. I don’t know what waits for me behind the door. I ignore the shouts from Lazarus and Idris. I slam the front door open and run around the side of the house.

  Zadimus looks up at my approach and takes hold of the second vampire’s
ears, but before Zadimus can kill him, I shout, “Wait! What are you doing? You can’t just k-k-kill him!”

  Zadimus stares at me as if I’m an annoying fly he wants to swat away, but he doesn’t pull on the vampire’s head. “I have to.” His biceps flex under the black material of his shirt, and my head shakes to avoid being distracted.

  Confused by my reaction, I nervously scratch my head at my need to plead the case of a vampire because honestly, it’s almost laughable. I’m begging for something I know nothing about, but my conscience won’t allow me to stand by and let him kill him. “I-I-I don’t understand. Why do you have to? He was only… doing what vampires do. He smelt blood and wanted it. It’s normal for you, right?”

  Zadimus’s eyes change from onyx to the light purple, and a lump forms in my throat. “You don’t understand. He tried to kill you, and I won’t allow that. He’s gone too far to be able to live here peacefully. If you cut yourself in the future, he’ll think he can get away with trying to attack you again.”

  My eyes well up with tears. I try to blink them away, but it’s no use. Not knowing what to say, I ask the question again, even though I already know the answer. “So he has to die? There’s no other way?”

  Zadimus’s eyes clear of the sadness and return to black. With a clenched jaw, he speaks, his voice ringing through the garden like a gunshot, “He does!”

  Not wanting to witness him killing another person, I take the coward’s way out and turn away. I make it as far as the front door before the screams abruptly cut off, and I know the deed has been done. With the sense of security gone, I avoid the kitchen and instead walk upstairs to Zadimus’s bedroom. I shut and lock the door, then I make my way to the huge bed in a daze.

  It takes me two attempts to climb onto the massive bed. I sit in the middle and glare at the heavily quilted blankets. My thoughts are on a constant reel, and I don’t know which one to settle on to figure out first.