Roseblood

by Emily Shore

  Brian growled as I quickened my pace, and he strove to keep up with me. Wait, Rin!

  I can't.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  A Hunter

  I focused on the coyote, eyes zeroing in on its rump, and my legs cantered faster, my body stampeding forward. Not long before I caught up to the inferior predator. I pounced, my teeth ready. First, I slowed it down while it snapped at me in vain, but I went for the kill bite. Brian joined me in ripping into the throat. Warm blood gushed into my mouth, and I devoured flesh, fed until the hunger was abated. Rich and earthy, it was opposite of drinking vampire blood. Silver blood was chilled, enticing, and energizing. This was straight up animalistic ― addictive for its adrenaline-laced power rush. More adrenaline than I’d ever experienced! By the time we were finished, there was only a mangled carcass left with its remains splattered on my paws and chest.

  You're a messy eater Brian remarked. But what a rush! That was epic!

  I huffed, now overwhelmed but also euphoric. No. more than euphoria. I could recognize the oneness of it all. Why Brian spent so much time in wolf form. The earth’s gravitational forces, its life energy pulsed into my paws and into my heart. Perfect eutierria.

  Feel that? Brian sensed my ponderings. Magical, isn’t it? You're one of us now! You've joined the rank of the wolves!

  I tested the ground beneath my paws and mused, I would say my wings would negate that.

  At least you don’t have fangs.

  No. No fangs. I wondered what he would think if I revealed my propensity towards silver blood. I still hadn’t sorted that out myself.

  If you tell Mom about this, I will tell on you about your little cult Sierra Pack business.

  But we're comrades in arms now protested Brian, whining and giving me those puppy dog eyes.

  Not a word, Brian, I warned, too aware of the power in my haunches, confident I could take him down for the first time in forever. Mom’s already worried enough. And if she knows I'm going through some wolfy puberty thing, she’ll lock me up at home and hire guard dogs, wolves, whatever to monitor me. So, if you value your safety, keep your trap shut. I snarled.

  Pretty sure she’s going to know when we come home.

  Not if we go to the cabin.

  Now we’re talking!

  Much to my relief, Brian secured Dad’s permission for us to go to the cabin, though he added a Guardian would meet us there.

  We ran the full hour to the cabin in wolf form and beat the Guardian.

  I turned around and sniffed the perimeter while Brian retained his human form to find the hide-a-key. In this form, I still had plenty of energy. Everything felt raw and ripe. My saber-sharp senses could pick up a labyrinth of scents: stale, burnt wood from a lightning-strike a few days ago, damp moss near a creek, black birch. I could hear mosquitos humming and bouncing off one another like poor dancers. I could smell crude, warm blood from a squirrel, but due to my coyote hors d’oeuvre, the prospect wasn’t tempting. After a few minutes of dissecting a dozen or so scents, Brian whistled, motioning inside.

  “You’ll probably want a shower. The fur will disappear, but the blood won’t, and it’s gonna be messy. It happens. Don’t let it get to you.”

  What if I don’t want to? I stuck up my nose at him.

  Brian chuckled. He couldn’t hear me, but he got the gist because he squatted down, leveling with me, “Trust me, Rin. You want to. If you don’t, your human body will take a nosedive and you’ll sleep for a week.”

  No, I didn’t want that.

  I moseyed through the doorway, tail flicking against the frame, my paws thudding the wood. My transformation was easier than expected. Excruciating but easy. It was nothing I thought about. All instinct — my body knew exactly what to do. I bit down on a scream as my muzzle contorted back into a human face. Bones cracked, fusing back together to form hands and toes from paws. Fur retreated to become hair. Shedding the wolf, I opened the bathroom door to get a sense of the damage. I jerked back, not recognizing the blood-soaked girl reflected in the mirror with bits of twigs and leaves in her hair — smears of soil and grass on her hands and feet, bruises mottling her flesh. I looked like something out of a horror film. If Skip were here, he could persuade their healing.

  Apart from the bruising and aches, I washed it all away. Finally, I ended up crumpled into a ball at the base of the shower, willing the steamy water to wipe away the pain, but it did no good. Was the high of the wolf hunt worth the after-pain?

  Every movement hurt. Even putting on pajamas, — because I didn’t give a rat’s ass about my transporter subconscious, I was NOT going anywhere tonight! — hurt like a million corkscrews twisting my flesh. I was just glad the cabin was fully stocked. Dad planned that in case we ever needed to get away from Le Couvènte in a hurry.

  Downstairs, Brian and I sipped hot cocoa on the couch. He didn’t mind that I took up most of the couch and propped my feet up onto his lap. Instead, he began rubbing them. Just what I needed! I arched my neck back against the couch and murmured my gratitude. Heath never did this for me. Brian and I shared one commonality: big, stinky feet. Well…two now.

  “I’m sure you’ve got some questions, so go ahead,” Brian permitted, squeezing my big toe.

  I winced. “Does it always hurt this much?”

  “You build up a tolerance. At least...when you start young you do. Probably harder for you, not going to lie. It’s ironic. You’ve always had Mom and Dad’s blood in you, but your DNA’s always been human. Something must be evolving to make this happen. It’s mind-bogglingly fascinating!” I peeked over at my science nerd brother. He spent so much time outdoors since Mom wouldn’t let him do his crazy experiments in his bedroom.

  “Ugh…glad you’re amused!” I groaned and grabbed a pillow.

  “Advil helps.”

  “Good, get me some in a minute. When I saw the coyote, the hunt just took over. And the adrenaline! Is it always like that?”

  “Pretty much.” Brian massaged the underside of my feet. “That’s also something you get better with in time, but some wolves master the art of the hunt from the first time they shift.”

  “So…what grade did I get?”

  Brian tossed his head back and then angled it with a piqued sigh. “Dammit, fine. Apart from being a messy eater, Rin, you were a natural. Like you’d done it all your life. You’re not an Alpha like Mom, though. Sorry.”

  “I’m not?” Huh.

  Brian shook his head and slapped the heel of my foot. “It’s a wolf thing you’ll discover soon enough. Every wolf can tell an Alpha from one glance. Part of our sixth sense. As you know, I’m a Beta. Alphas are distinct, easy to distinguish. Other roles are learned unless you’re an Omega, but there aren’t too many of those around.”

  “So, you have no idea what I am?”

  “Sorry. I felt the need to bow to you, but you can’t control me. Want that Advil now?”

  “Absolutely.”

  I fell asleep sometime during The Wolfman — Brian’s idea, but when I woke, a quilt was draped across my shoulders. I could hear the faint sound of Brian’s snore next to me. Typical. He’d fallen asleep with his head lolled over the armrest, mouth open. Oh. My brother looked really cute. There had to be a super special girl out there for him somewhere. Someone who could hunt with him like I’d done today. Someone who would join him at Comic Con conventions and watch old horror movies and eat his overdone, fist-sized meatballs. She wouldn’t have to be a force to be reckoned with. That was Heath’s girl. She just had to be right for him, and there would be hell to pay from me if she wasn’t.

  With these thoughts, I gathered the quilt around me. Brian slept like a log, so I didn’t even need to tiptoe outside. Lowering my rump onto the bottom front porch step, I burrowed my toes into the clay, and ignored the gnats peppering the air. I breathed deep. All around the cabin, silhouettes of Redwoods stood like dark gods. I could imagine forest creatures coming from near and far to pay tribute to the noble beings. Wind summone
d goose bumps from my skin and transformed my breath frost-white. I shivered a little. Spring was late this year. Still cold enough for long-sleeves. I huddled into the blanket.

  “Reina…”

  I flinched at first but then smiled, straightening to comment, “Raoul.” I wasn’t surprised that he was the Guardian. I scolded my tiny heart palpitation at his presence.

  He approached out of the woods, hands clasped behind him, head bowed, dressed in usual Guardian attire — black jeans and long-sleeved black shirt to blend in with the night. The only traces of white came from his irises. A sharp contrast to Skip’s resplendence. A black knight to Skip’s gold king. Raoul made himself comfortable and sat down beside me.

  “Reina…” he swept up my hand and continued, “There’s something different about you.”

  For a moment, I panicked. I didn’t want anyone else to know about my transformation, and I’d spent so long in the shower, washing away any traces of the wolf. There was nothing more that I wanted in that moment than to look, smell, sound, and feel human. Plus, I knew I should be cautious even if I trusted Raoul enough to squeeze his hand and tip my head onto his shoulder.

  “I’m fine,” I sighed. “Just admiring the trees.”

  “You’re exhausted.”

  I couldn’t argue. My whole body felt worn as dried, crumply moth wings. But when Raoul urged my hand into his, I felt it rise within me. The craving. Silver blood ignited, red hot blood coddling it. My veins awakened with lustrous moonbeam lines. Just like that same night with Skip, I yearned for Raoul’s blood. Its scent…deeper, richer, a level unlike anything I’d smelled before.

  “Reina?” Wondered Raoul when my nose drifted along the edge of his wrist, following his vein upward until I’d reached his jugular. So much stiller than Skip’s because Raoul was a bitten vampire. He did not possess the same…blood system. And the thought of this rebellion was even more tempting.

  I threw my head back and gasped, pleading, “Please!”

  Instead, Raoul seized my waist, tugging my body close till I was almost in his lap. He pressed his lips to mine. I met him head-on, growling and forcing his lips apart so I could taste him, so I could instead satiate the bloodlust inside me with his flesh. Greedy, I devoured him. He let my wandering hands voyage all up and down the length of him from his pelvis, across his strong abdomen, tearing at one or two of his shirt buttons to dig my fingers into his firm, dark chest. Finally, I gripped his neck and our mouths dueled. Then, I sunk deeper…inside his mind. Suddenly present, I sensed every emotion inside him. More intense than the night with Skip and reading his mind. Just as I’d predicted, Raoul’s emotions ran deep. Deep as the Mariana’s Trench. Deeper than a dilated vampire’s pupils.

  A thousand memories wrapped around my head, overwhelming me. The progression of my life from childhood to adolescence to my young adulthood. Sketching, painting, sculpting, swimming…all with Raoul nearby even when I didn’t know it. The time he found me in the vineyard and returned me home. The morning I turned up at his house. Our first kiss. This, our second. Raoul refused to give me his blood, but he gave the rest of himself instead. And he proved his steadfastness to resist me.

  Reina, I heard his voice inside my head even as our mouths continued to conquer one another in a stalemate. I’ll give my whole self to you forever. I’ll be the angel in your blood. Use me forever. But I need you forever. Let me have you forever. And you may have me.

  I broke from the kiss panting and gasping for air, buckling to my knees from exhaustion. If he’d given me his blood, it would be the opposite. I’d have power. An adrenaline high. Raoul denied me that. Why? Would I ever know?

  Before I could ask, he tensed and stood. Immediately, I imagined a threat, and when Raoul flicked his head to a small, white shape about fifty yards from us, I stood with him and remarked, “It’s an albino squirrel.” I watched the creature scurry up a nearby tree.

  Raoul shook his head and clenched his hands into a fist. “It’s more than that.” And then he called into the darkness. “Well met, Kent!”

  Suddenly, the squirrel leapt from the tree, transforming midair into a vampire, his body becoming a great, white blur in the darkness.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Raoul’s Confession

  At the same moment, Raoul ripped the quilt from my body, leaving me to shiver in my pajamas, but it was a much better option than the alternative. I kept my eyes high until the deft vampire caught the blanket Raoul tossed and wrapped it around his naked lower half before responding.

  “I would know your voice anywhere, Kelley,” Kent declared and approached us until I registered his pale eyes and how he walked indicated he was blind. More than that, part of his body was scarred. Puckered flesh ranged down one side of his face along his neck, shoulders, chest, disappearing below his waist. “What I don’t recognize is the delectable scent coming from beside you. Have you taken a familiar?”

  “Far from it.”

  Raoul stepped down from the porch, and the absence from his body threatened to devour me. Feeling too exposed, too vulnerable to this stranger, I wanted to reach for him.

  “She is no ordinary human.”

  Kent raised the quilt to his face, breathing in my scent. “Her blood — it—”

  “I know all too well,” replied Raoul, glancing back toward me, eyes reassuring.

  “How have you ever managed?” Kent approached Raoul and set a hand on his shoulder, nostrils flaring as he breathed in my scent.

  “It has been difficult, my friend. But kindly remember, I am far more advanced than you.”

  I couldn’t take it any longer. “Raoul…care to introduce me?” I tried to pour confidence in my voice, but I faltered, a little nervous. With how weak I was, I didn’t know if I could muster silver blood to my ally. That was when I realized how much I’d come to depend on it. But I could always depend on Raoul, especially when he was a Guardian.

  So, I steadied myself on the porch beam, my limbs still aching, my very blood protesting while Raoul addressed me. “Don’t be shy, Reina,” he urged me. “Kent was a member of the coven in New York I once led.”

  However fatigued I was, I accepted Raoul’s outstretched hand, and tried not to stare at the vampire’s eyes — pale as a mushroom’s underbelly while Raoul wrapped his arm around my back, settling my nerves.

  Then, he announced to his friend, “Kent, allow me to introduce the most important person in my life: Reina Caraway.”

  Despite his blindness, Kent’s extra senses seemed to detect the precise location of my hand, which he raised to his mouth to kiss. “Charmed.”

  I tried to keep my voice steady. “Likewise. I’ve never met a blind vampire before.”

  Kent dropped my hand, but he didn’t seem offended. “Indeed. I paid a high price for a few moments of treasured sunlight. Now, my lack of vision and scars serve as a reminder of the stakes.”

  “Your ability to shape-shift into animal form is very impressive,” I complimented him.

  “Thank you. Not so unlike Raoul’s, which I would gladly trade mine for any day. It was why he made such a proficient spy and rose to become coven leader.”

  “Really?” I showed my obvious interest even as Raoul tensed at the mention of his past.

  “Yes, Kent, but another matter is more pressing. Though I know you don't kill your targets, your hunting so close to Le Couvènte may pose a problem. The Council is on high alert and have increased border security. I suggest you find another hunting ground.”

  I pinpointed Kent’s eyes. A faint flush lingered inside his pupils. Despite Raoul dictating that Kent never killed his targets, I'd encountered too many human blood drinkers lately. My stomach churned like a jester squeezing my intestines. Questions about Raoul’s past bred in my mind until they overpopulated. The most I knew was that he was a byproduct of the Civil War and grew up in the South. I’d never treaded further because his skin color was a dead giveaway that his past was undoubtedly filled with challenges at the very
least and no doubt horrors.

  “Thank you for the warning, old friend,” Kent stipulated before eyeing the darkness behind him. “I will leave in peace.”

  “And don't forget, you are welcome in Le Couvènte whenever you choose. I would be more than willing to help with the lifestyle adjustment.”

  Kent's smirk spread like a blood-bloated vein before he chuckled. “Yes, Raoul, I remember. Your moralistic conscious was always stronger than your stomach, so to speak. But you know as well as I that settling down isn't an option. But I will remember Reina Caraway’s scent if our paths should ever cross again. Farewell, old friend.”

  Another moment later, the quilt dropped to the ground, and from beneath it rose a beautiful set of white wings as Kent shifted into the form of a gull and flew away. Afterward, Raoul left my side only to fetch the quilt for me.

  Wincing at the prospect, I shook my head. “No thanks, that's okay.”

  Instead, the two of us settled down onto the porch. I knew I should wait till he offered, but one question escaped from the border of my tongue, “So, you were a coven leader and a spy before that?”

  Raoul gripped onto the wooden porch beam, concentrating a little too much on the splinters. “It’s a time of my life I'd rather not repeat.”

  “Seems like that’s a recurrent theme about you. Maybe it would do you some good.”

  “Trust me, it wouldn't.”

  “Then, it would do me some good,” I urged him. For the first time ever, I urged him. “I've known you for years. You can kiss me, you can long for me, but you can’t trust me beyond that?”

  Raoul turned, narrowing his brows a little, creasing his beautiful forehead. In the soft glow of the porch light, his soft bronze eyes resembled more of a warm tea, brimming with secrets that would be more difficult to uncover than the dark side of a harvest moon. That was Raoul. Angel on the surface with ghosts and deep shadows below.