As all prophesies, this one sounded quite cryptic. It was not clear at all and the vagueness of its message just made it even more confusing. I didn’t feel I exactly fit into it, though I must admit that some of its lines did adjust quite well. After all, I was the first person I ever met with violet eyes. Ok, ok, I know they say that Liz Taylor has violet eyes too, well hers have a sort of violet tone . . . mine are deep violet.
The electric silence that followed the poem stretched for some minutes after the twins fell silent. I could feel smooth waves of energy pulsing through the room, coming from every one of the clan members. My heartbeats seemed to freeze and I felt my blood being pumped by theirs. For the first time in my life I felt I belonged somewhere, I felt an honest bond with every single one of the people that surrounded me. It was as if invisible umbilical cords were joining us and making our energy flow in unison. I was held in bliss and let myself go.
* * *
“I think she’s trying to handle too much before she has even fed.” I heard Corbin’s voice say and opened my eyes through blotches of colour.
Pastel shaded circles seemed to cover everything when I opened my eyes. I felt as if I had pressed my eyeballs for a long time and they were now completely useless: I just couldn’t see anything for a couple of seconds until my sight slowly returned.
I was once again lying on my back with Jonathan holding me. His warm hands were holding my head and his sweet smell flooded me. I felt safe and not sick finally in a very long time. Slowly, I felt all my senses return and I was back in the room.
“I believe somebody’s tired and needs to feed before she goes to bed for a while,” said Ginny with a very grandma-like manner and a face that looked like anything but that.
Her voice was sweet though almost whiny and a very subtle Texan accent seemed to linger in her voice. “I imagine a huge emotional turmoil under that pretty face of yours honey, you only passed out for a second here so don’t worry, nothing happened. We can talk about all this prophecy nonsense another time. You need to eat something and rest now.” She said and smiled at me.
Her sweetness made me smile, she was one of those people you just couldn’t stop adoring and she was right about me needing some food. That something that had been building up inside me for some time was clearly hunger, though I hungered for something quite specific now, something thick and warm tickling down my throat.
As right as she was about that, she was completely mistaken about something else: I was now remembering something I dreamt about in the few seconds I passed out . . . and that dream was not “nothing” at all.
CHAPTER 7
Need to feed . . .
The hunger that had imperceptibly been building up inside me had become suddenly unbearable. Lying in Jonathan’s arms I could now feel nothing but a pulsing need to feed. My lips were numb and my tongue felt swollen in my mouth, an agonizing longing ruptured my heart and my throat was burning, I felt like an addict in need for cocaine.
Jonathan caressed my lips with the tip of his fingers and smiled. “I know how it feels, but it won’t be so intolerable after some time. You will learn to control it and not let the hunger control you.” He said to me mentally.
I was kind of getting used to the idea of receiving mind-messages and being able to speak with no words; I started to imagine all the uses I could give to this and it was just mind-blowing! I could tell him anything I wanted without even worrying about somebody eavesdropping. His voice seemed so intimate and sensuous that for a blind second I just forgot how to breathe. I knew it was time to give in, to let myself succumb to my vampire self and finally accept it.
“What do you mean by control it and not let it control you?” I asked him mentally. I knew my message came across as soon as I saw a satisfied grin drawn on his lips; this might have been the kind of response he was expecting all along. He looked proud and protective as if he had a treasure no one else had and didn’t want to share it.
“Distract the hunger. That’s all I mean. It’s quite easy once you get the idea, if you let it take over then you loose yourself to it but if you distract it: you set aside the animal inside you and let your will govern.” His answer was once again mental, making me feel delighted in this public privacy.
Distract the hunger . . . what a complex thought! It was nearly as if I was letting it have a personality of its own, just as if the hunger was a thinking animal trapped inside me and craving to be released.
He then started to be more effusive with his fingertips and started to trace every curve of my lips, he traced my cheeks and the curve of my neck. Jonathan seemed completely decided to start teasing me! And he was accomplishing it. I felt in utmost rapture under his touch, so much that I nearly lost my connection to anything but the thought of our connection.
Without letting go, his smile grew wider and he spoke to me once more in the depths of my thoughts: “That’s just it, you see? I’m making you distract your hunger, and it works: your thoughts trailed on a completely different track as I can see . . .”
I felt my face flush madly under those words, I couldn’t veil my thoughts to him in this moment and if I thought of anything else the excruciating hunger would return. It was a complete torture!
“Don’t feel embarrassed,” he said to my mind and continued, “This is exactly what I wanted to show you: there are certain kinds of thoughts that can overrule your hunger. Sometimes, the battle is not easy, but if you concentrate and choose the right thoughts and memories you’ll be able to prevail over the hunger. Thoughts of love and of utmost hatred work perfectly well; and if you can spice things up with a little lust you can be sure to triumph.” He winked at me and made my face grow even hotter.
Although Jonathan had made me blush, I knew he was right. The hunger was no longer controlling me; I was now the one in control.
“It’s time.” Said James and nodded at Corbin. “We are going to take you to meet someone, but for security reasons we are going to hold you and we will not let go. Please distract your hunger.” James’ voice was soft but firm, and upon saying this, he took hold of one of my arms and looking at Jonathan had him hold my other side.
By the time they had me standing with them firmly at my sides, Corbin had stood up and opened a large wooden double door that was on the opposite wall and disappeared in darkness. We walked silently towards the door. They were leading me though they were not dragging me; some part of me felt compelled to follow Corbin into the dark.
When we crossed the doors we got into a very dimly lit antechamber. It was thickly carpeted and long, with no furnishings but a small black granite table with a very expensive looking vase on it. No windows sat on the wood-lined walls and all the lighting came from a tiny bronze lamp set high above a smaller door. The door was closed and impeccably polished with an enormous antique doorknob to open it.
Corbin stood lazily beside the door; he was leaning against the wall with one foot slightly crossed in front of the other. He was not looking at us but at the floor making his sleek hair slide forwards partially covering his face. His arms were loosely crossed over his chest with his hands tucked in his armpits, and his partly shadowed face displayed a slight smirk. He looked completely out of a catalogue. As we approached him, he lifted his face towards James and with a sigh asked him, “ready?”
After a too long second James answered with a simple nod and Corbin took hold of the handle. He opened the door and walked in.
The other bedroom was very brightly lit and resembled very much a kitchen. The cream tiled floors were shiny and perfectly clean. The walls were lined with wooden cupboards and a small counter full of drawers nearly divided the whole room in two. There was something slightly odd for this to be a kitchen since even though there was a fridge there was no oven or anything to resemble it. There were no cooking tools at plain sight.
To the far right of were we stood was a small kitchen table with five chairs. A girl was sitting there giving us her back. She had her both hands on the t
able and a small black toolbox beside them. Her doe coloured hair was shortish and tied up in a tight ponytail. Corbin walked towards her and sat on the chair at her left. She didn’t flinch or move at all. She simply stayed there, calmly, just chilling.
Upon looking at her my nostrils seemed to burn. I felt a deep pang of hunger stab me at my stomach and my tongue seemed to fill my mouth. I wanted to run towards her, and with that thought I felt my fangs tight against my lips.
“Distract your hunger!” Jonathan said to me tugging at my arm, and James’ hold on me grew tighter. I was dying with need, and couldn’t think of anything more than about what was pulsing through her veins. I yearned for the sweet liquor of her veins.
That’s when I knew Jonathan was right. I could feel my strength building inside me. That was why they were keeping a firm grip of my arms. I was almost out of control for I was loosing myself to the hunger, to a compelling need like nothing I had ever felt before. I knew that if I did not distract my hunger I would eventually set free from their grip and rip that stranger apart.
I could barely restrain myself from doing so right then, and I was still quite lucid. I had to do something fast, I was not a killer, I was just me: a little different, yes, but still me underneath it.
I closed my eyes and thought of Jonathan, of his lips sliding over mine. I pictured him really kissing me for the first time and losing myself in his arms. I imagined his lips to be soft and warm like I knew them on my cheeks and pictured the most perfect kiss.
I lost myself to that thought. I really let myself immerse myself in it until I stopped feeling them tugging at my arms. I was transported to my mental image. There was no world outside my thoughts, no floor under my feet, no girl I wanted to eat, and definitely no hunger to make me cease to be me.
I opened my eyes and with my thoughts still strongly present, we walked towards the table. With James and Jonathan still tightly at my sides, I sat on a chair in front of the girl.
She was maybe a little bit older than me. Her face was completely calm while she looked at me and I saw two huge doe-like eyes, heavily lined with makeup smiling. She did not judge me and she was not scared. I could see she understood what I was and was not afraid at all. It didn’t seem to bother her that just a few moments ago I had wanted to eat her.
I don’t know how but by looking at her I knew that Corbin had explained to her everything about me being a recently awakened vamp and she was still not fearful. Her pink lips were softly glossed, and her perfect skin seemed to glow slightly rosy under the “kitchen” light.
“My name is Clara” she said, “I’m a donor, I’ve been one for several years actually, that is why I’m experienced enough to be your donor today. What’s your name?”
Her voice was friendly, she made me calm down, and with my special thoughts still lingering in my head I could completely control my hunger.
“My name? My name is . . . um, Iris.” I said, and from then on that’s what I’ve been called ever since. I could see Corbin smiling from the other side of the table and even without looking at James and Jonathan I knew they were pleased. They silently approved of my new me, they approved of how I named myself. I felt more myself now than ever in my life, and for some reason I still cannot point out I feel I somehow owe it to this girl, Clara.
“Well, nice to meet you then Iris,” she said bowing her head towards me. “Let’s begin then. The boys here will keep hold of you all the time while you feed; it’s easier that way because they will help you stop in case you can’t.”
Saying this, she opened the black toolbox and extracted from it many medical-looking implements. She took an intravenous needle and something that looked like a thin, transparent, plastic tube with a blue tap. She also got from there some surgical tape, a huge rubber band and some gauze.
After setting all the sterile implements on a small plastic mat she had placed on the table, she lifted her black sweatshirt and exposed her thin, white, left arm. Many track marks tainted the crease of her tiny arm, making her look like a junkie. “No wonder she wears long sleeves in summer . . .” I thought while looking at her.
With her dextrous hand she avidly put the rubber-band tightly above her arm crease and took hold of the needle. After checking the tap was closed, in one single precise movement she punctured a vein with the needle and secured it with the tape. Once she was ready, she relaxed her arm on the table and handed James the other end of the colourless plastic tube and said “ready”.
“This is how it works at the beginning,” James said, “you still don’t know how to keep in control, and therefore we are going to help you. Jonathan and I are going to hold you very tightly keeping your arms secured at your back. When we are ready I will place the tube in your mouth and when Clara feels ready she will open the tap. She will be in control at all times, that means that when she feels she has given you enough, she will close the tap. When we say stop you will stop, is it clear?”
I could hear my heart pounding in my chest, I was anxious, I was keyed up and I was a bit scared; I was a complete turmoil of emotions. The hunger was now trying to kick-in but I didn’t let it, I knew how to control my thoughts this time. Jonathan and James tightened their hold and secured my arms. Only then, after Jonathan nodded James put the tube in my mouth.
Clara seemed to get more comfortable in her chair and barely touched the blue tap with her fingers; then with a long sigh she turned it. Her crimson blood started crawling through the tube. It moved slowly and beautifully, like a ballet dancer on a stage; I bent my body forward on the table because I knew that if I didn’t the sweet liquor would never reach my mouth.
In a matter of seconds pure delight exploded in my mouth. I could feel the sticky substance filling every inch of my oral cavity; sweet and savoury were intertwined with magic. I could feel her energy flowing through me and making me feel a part of her and of everything in the world. My whole muscles were melting with delight; the rapture of it all was like a drug that blew me off my senses in a wave.
Blood did not taste like I had expected it to be, the whole idea had not been exactly disgusting in my head, for it was more intriguing than anything else actually. The taste itself was metallic yes, that’s true, but more than just like any rusty metal it felt like pure liquid gold. I could feel her life upon every drink and all her feelings and memories flowed through me like a breeze in spring. It was fresh as jasmine in a summer porch and richer than pure honey. Her heartbeats pounded with my every breath; and when I felt I could finally loose myself in it all, it was over. Clara turned off the tap.
For a moment I wanted to pull on the tube, to squeeze any small drop that could linger inside it. I wanted to beg for more, to plead with all my might to keep on feeling her blood pour in my mouth, but I did not. I could feel Jonathan humming a lullaby to my mind and I grew calm. I felt happy and tired, for the first time since I had awakened I truly wanted to lie in bed and sleep.
Clara’s face had a smile, “Thank you,” she said. I thought it was the strangest thing to have her thank me, for it was I who had to thank her.
“I believe it is I who has to thank you” I said, and then softly hoped they would offer me a bed to sleep in. I felt drowsy and my lids were heavy on my eyes.
As if answering my prayers Corbin hugged and thanked the girl and said that I must be tired. I simply wanted to cry with joy at those words. James and Jonathan loosened their tight grip on my arms but not letting go completely (just in case I went berserk on the poor girl) and led me out of the “kitchen” though a simple white door.
Too tired to even thing of saying goodbye to Clara I just let them lead me into a new corridor that died ay the bottom of a gorgeous marble stairway.
The staircase had a beautiful read carpet going all the way up in the middle and it made a soft curve to the left. The railing was made of intricate iron leaves and flowers, making it look like something out of a decorations magazine. Just by looking at the numerous steps I felt it was going to be an impossi
ble ordeal to go all the way up, luckily just as if reading my thoughts (which he probably did) my sweet boy took me in his arms and went up the stairs.
My face was nested neatly on his shoulder just beside his neck, making me feel almost drunk on his sweet musky smell. Jonathan never set me down on my feet; he continued walking down the corridor until he reached one of the bedrooms and took me in. He then softly left me on a soft silk comforter and turned to leave.
“Please stay,” I said, “I just want to sleep in your arms.” He turned to face me again and without uttering a word he lay down on the bed beside me. With his arm over my shoulder and his chest tightly pressed against my back I finally succumbed to sleep.
CHAPTER 8
The Dream
I was having the same dream I had before, the same dream I had when the twins recited the poem.
Everything around me was foggy, but I could hear someone calling out. I walked in circles, sometimes I could listen and sometimes I heard nothing. The fog thinned out and slowly I saw a dim female figure.
She was the one calling my name so I went to her. Her arms, outstretched in my direction, were imploring for me to get there. She looked impossibly thin. Her scrawny pale figure seemed anxious yet longing. A huge set of brown eyes took over her long, thin face. Thin lips and a small taut nose stood beneath her impressive stare and enhanced the nervous aura that surrounded her. Her glossy hair, slightly reddish hung loosely around her shoulders making her look slightly sickish. She appeared to be in her early thirties, but she was dressed like out of another time.
A long dark brown skirt covered the whole length of her long legs and a pale, cream-coloured, long-sleeved blouse dressed her upper body. A set of quite witch-like black boots held her firm place and crowned her look of being out of place, out of time.
The imploring figure seemed oddly familiar while I walked towards her but I couldn’t quite point out who she reminded me of. She seemed to be in a hurry without even moving one hair and implored me with her ever stretching arms to get near. When I finally stood at arms reach, she took hold of both of my hands and upon looking at her face I decided she looked very much like the twins.
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