by Roh Morgon
My blood starts to heat up as I watch them, and then Nicolas is behind me, quietly growling. The blond Chosen’s expression quickly shifts to neutral, and he turns his partner and moves farther back into the crowd.
I start to ask who the Chosen is, but think better of it as Nicolas’s jealousy flares through me. He reaches up and caresses my neck, as though to remind me of the pleasures he brings me, and it works. I close my eyes as my body responds to his touch, then inhale sharply as his heat hits me. I turn to look at him and feel the amusement that’s dancing in his emerald eyes.
He leans in and whispers, “I . . . do not . . . play fair.”
No, you sure the hell don’t. I smile to myself.
“Do you see anyone on the floor who looks interesting? Besides that Chosen, whom I will kill if I ever catch him looking at you like that again?” His last words take on a lethal tone.
I swallow.
“Um, no, I haven’t really looked yet,” I stammer.
“I noticed,” he says quietly, all humor gone.
Mine is suddenly gone as well, replaced with a flicker of irritation and rebellion.
He laughs and tousles my hair.
Bastard.
“Come, shall we see if we can find you someone . . . suitable? You are always so prickly when you are hungry.” He leans in and kisses the top of my head, grabs my hand, and walks toward the dance floor.
I resist momentarily, and he stops, looks back, and gives me that amused smile he knows gets me every time. This time is no different.
Smiling, I shake my head and accompany him to the floor.
We stroll through the gyrating humans, who seem to instinctively avoid bumping us. I spot another Chosen, a dark-haired female, dancing with an attractive Latin-type guy. She nods to Nicolas and glances at me, then grabs her partner by the wrist. He grins and eagerly follows as she leads him in the direction of the black curtain. The beast growls, wanting to follow as well, its attention locked on the willing human. I slap it down and focus on the crowded floor.
I watch the various dancers, but this is just not working for me. Nicolas talked with me about what to look for, but all I see are people. People out having a good time with each other, some of them hoping for more, but all of them just people.
I can’t see them the way he does. As food.
Nicolas bends to my ear and whispers, “I will return momentarily.”
He moves off through the crowd.
Suddenly I’m under attack from my two selves, the one that’s thrilled he may have spotted someone, and the one that’s terrified he has.
I don’t want to do this. There must be another way.
Shaking my head, I walk back to the curtain. The beast growls hungrily as a dancer gets a little too close, and I flinch away from any accidental contact.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” says a young, redheaded goth in metal-accented black. Shoving back the dancers jostling him, his eyes grow wide as he looks at me again. “Hey, you’re new here, huh?”
The glare I give him is full of warning, but he just smiles. He lifts his arm and strokes the inside of it with his other hand, raising his pierced eyebrows in invitation.
The beast understands perfectly and leaps up with a roar. I swallow and tighten my fists as I work to stay under control.
“Yeah? Come on, I’m ready. Right now.” He grins eagerly, his blue eyes bright with excitement.
Without waiting for an answer, he heads for the black curtain. I stand there watching him, struggling to contain the wildness rampaging inside me.
“You should go with him,” Nicolas says quietly behind me. “He is quite experienced.”
Still I hesitate, trapped between my two natures.
“Waiting another night will not help matters. You know this,” he says steadily.
He’s right. As he’s explained, and I’m finding out, the only way to keep the beast manageable is to feed it frequently.
Looking down, I nod and walk to the curtain. The boy is shuffling and fidgeting, and keeps glancing at the bouncer, who has no intention of letting him pass through the curtain. He looks at me, then back to the bouncer, as though to say, “See? She’s coming. You can let me through.” But the bouncer ignores him and watches me as I walk up.
I glance at the redhead, then back at the bouncer, and nod once. He moves to one side and pulls back the curtain. The boy steps through, trying to remain nonchalant, but he’s practically shivering with expectation. I follow him and the curtain drops down behind me, and I pause a moment for Nicolas. But the draperies remain still.
Guess I’ll see him in the lounge.
As I walk past the boy to the door guarding the private area of the club, he says, “So what’s your name? Mine’s Terry.”
But I barely hear him as I contemplate the keypad. Nicolas had given me the code earlier, before we left the house.
This is my first time using it. My first time doing something of my own volition that I swore I’d never do—feed from a human—with no one standing beside me, helping me, encouraging me. Changing me.
With a ripple of unease, I enter the numbers, one at a time. Each feels like another nail in the coffin containing the old me.
The click releasing the lock sounds the final one, and I swallow down my misgivings and open the door.
The boy saunters beside me as we make our way down the hallway. He reaches for my arm, but I just give him a cold stare, though my irritation is more with myself than with him. He stuffs his hands into his pockets, and we walk the rest of the way to the lounge door in silence.
This time I have no hesitation as I quickly punch in the code.
The boy follows me inside, then strolls over to the curtained cubicles. I walk past him to the door for the private rooms, open it and, pausing, look back at him, expecting him to join me.
His feet are unmoving, his body rigid, his shoulders hunched up, and his face pale with terror. The female Chosen and her human partner are talking in low whispers in one of the cubicles, but no one else is here. His obvious fear puzzles me.
I motion him over and his eyes widen further, like a deer trapped in the predator’s gaze. The hunter in me springs to the surface, anxious to give chase to this prey that is obviously ready to bolt. I slap her down and walk back to the boy.
“What’s wrong?” I ask him. The other Chosen and her partner stop talking.
“I don’t want to go back there,” he says loudly, his voice shaking.
“Okay. Why not?” My curiosity overrides the beast that is impatiently waiting.
“Because . . . because . . .” He swallows.
The female Chosen comes out from her cubicle, walks over to us, and looks at him critically.
“You know the agreement. You’ve been here long enough to know how it works,” she says matter-of-factly.
“But it’s supposed to be my choice! I didn’t ask to go back there!”
“What agreement? Why don’t you want to go back there?” I ask, quite concerned now.
“Because . . . most people who go . . . back there . . . don’t come out again,” he whispers.
What the hell?
I grit my teeth against the flash of rage.
Damn you, Nicolas, for keeping this from me.
“Well, Terry, I believe there’s been a misunderstanding on my part. As you mentioned, I’m new, and not well-acquainted with all of the guidelines here.” I glance at the Chosen, then place a hand on Terry's shoulder. He trembles beneath my touch and the beast strains to break loose, but I lock it down.
I look at Terry, keeping my expression as gentle as possible.
“I apologize if I frightened you. I had no intention of . . . harming you, and was only seeking the privacy to which I’m accustomed.”
He peers searchingly into my eyes, and a little of his fear seems to subside. I look at the Chosen, and she’s staring at me, her expression hard. I don’t know what her problem is, but she needs to stay out of this.
I narrow
my eyes and curl my lip slightly, and she lowers her head and gives me a slight bow. She turns without another word and goes back into her cubicle. I look again at the frightened boy in front of me.
This is just wrong. I can’t do this to someone who’s afraid.
Wanting to ease this boy’s fears before taking him back up to the front part of the club, I ask, “Would you like a glass of wine? You may sit anywhere you choose.”
He nods, turns to the cubicle he’s standing next to, and pulls back one curtain, securing it open in a large ornate hook. He looks at me again, goes in, and sits down at one end of the couch.
Taking a deep breath, I go to the bar and grab glasses and an opener, a bottle of wine for the boy, and a bottle of bloodwine for me. I think I’m going to need the whole bottle.
Soft moans start issuing from the other cubicle, and I turn back and grab a second bloodwine.
I set everything on the low table in front of the couch, then hand the bottle opener to Terry and move the wine bottle in front of him. He struggles unsuccessfully to open it. I’m not sure if he’s still upset or has little experience with opening wine.
“Here, let me.” I take the bottle, finish peeling off the wrapper, open it, and set it back in front of him. I open my own and pour a much-needed glass of bloodwine. Swallowing it down quickly, I feel the beast begin to quiet. I refill my glass and drink a little more slowly, savoring the feeling as it soothes my tissues and veins.
Grabbing the bottle, I move to the other end of the couch and settle into the corner.
Terry seems much calmer now and a little of his swagger returns.
“Thanks. Uh, this is pretty cool.” He watches me over the rim of his glass as he takes a sip.
“You’re welcome. Again, I’m sorry for upsetting you.” I finish my glass and pour another. The beast is restless sitting this close to the boy, and sedation seems my only option right now.
The door to the hallway opens and Nicolas comes in. He stops a moment, watching us. Turning to the bar, he grabs a small bottle of liqueur from the back shelf along with a burgundy wineglass and walks over to our cubicle.
His eyes are pale green, which explains why he wasn’t here any sooner. That’s odd—I didn’t even feel him feed.
“Hello, Nicolas. Terry and I were just having a little talk about the private rooms,” I say carefully, watching him.
Nicolas gives me an unreadable look and says nothing.
“He . . . didn’t want to go back there. After he explained why, I felt his reluctance was justified and decided that here was just fine. I think someone should’ve mentioned the rules to me earlier.” I give Nicolas a steely look and let my anger slip free, watching as he feels it.
Terry finishes his glass and pours another, wisely opting to stay out of our discussion.
“I see,” says Nicolas, his tone neutral. But I feel an answering flare of anger from him, and I smile a not-so-nice smile at him.
He sets the liqueur and glass down on the table with a pointed look at the red-haired boy. Terry winces and nods.
“Well. I have phone calls to make. You can find me in my office when you are ready to leave.” He purses his lips and looks thoughtfully at me, then turns and leaves the room.
I resist the urge to growl and instead drain my glass. Terry snickers and I turn to see him offering to refill it. The beast quivers at the sight of the deep red liquid streaming from the bottle, but otherwise stays still and watchful.
Terry sets aside his wine and opens the liqueur Nicolas brought, then pours it into the burgundy glass.
He holds it up in my direction.
“Can we start over with a toast to a new friendship?” he asks, smiling.
I frown. Friendship? These people really are delusional about their relationships with us.
But I shrug, not wanting to upset him any further, and hold up my glass. He clinks his to mine, then quickly empties it. I do the same and the warm glow of the spiced blood finally starts taking effect.
He seems to be getting more and more relaxed as we continue to drink. I, unfortunately, am unable to do the same, as his proximity is keeping me on edge. The beast is subdued for the moment, but it’s also waiting.
“So you never told me your name,” he says as he sips his drink. His eyes are bright with the alcohol, and their previous excitement is returning. The beast sits up and growls.
“You’re right,” I say, keeping my tone distant. Friendship is not what I want.
“O . . . kay. Well, I just have to tell you, I’ve never seen anyone, like, get in his face before.” He gestures with his chin toward the door that Nicolas left through. “I mean, he’s polite and treats us good, but truth be told, he scares the shit out of everyone. Including the others like you.”
He laughs and takes another couple swallows.
Yeah, well he used to scare me, too. Not so much anymore.
Glancing at the now empty bottle of bloodwine, I reach over to grab the second one.
“You don’t need to open that,” Terry says quietly.
My body freezes as I focus on containing the beast that’s now lunging in anticipation.
“Well, I mean, now that I know you don’t want to, you know, kill me, I’m totally down for a little blood action.” His hip banter doesn’t hide the desperate longing in his voice.
I continue to stare at the bottle. This is so weird. I’m not used to having conversations with my dinner beforehand, let alone having them beg me to feast on their blood.
“No, seriously dude, I mean, miss. I’m pretty much in the mood right now. I mean, if you don’t mind me saying so, you’re really hot, and well, you know, they say I’m real unique. Something about my red hair makes me taste kinda special.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see him nodding to himself as he shoots me a hopeful look.
Letting go of the bottle, I straighten and look directly at him. The beast is in full rampage right now, and I want Terry to see it. But instead of being frightened, he smiles his cocky grin and pushes up his ragged sleeve.
My vision shifts from pink to red as he gets up and releases the curtain from the hook. He walks back over and kneels on the floor in front of me, holding up his arm.
“C’mon, it’ll be good. You’ll see,” he says in a low voice.
I carefully take his arm, frowning as I concentrate on keeping the beast under some sort of control.
“Is it okay if I touch you?” he asks hopefully.
“No,” I say, and pierce his arm with my nails.
The drive home is interesting. Neither of us has spoken since our curt exchange in the lounge. I’m feeling pretty mellow at the moment and don’t want to ruin my peaceful state with a fight.
Terry was right. There is something a little different with his blood, a spicy flavor mixed with the typical human sweetness. Maybe that’s what gives redheads their feistiness. Fascinating.
We pull up in front of the house and Nicolas turns off the car. I open my door and get out before he does, then head up the steps and inside without waiting for him. I feel a flash of anger from him, but like earlier in the evening, it’s faint. The effect of his blood must be wearing off.
I go directly upstairs and am already closing my door when I hear him shut the front door. Then the library door opens and closes, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I really do not want to deal with a confrontation right now.
I’m partly relieved that our blood connection is fading, because it can be overwhelming at times. But I also miss being able to read Nicolas better, and I’m especially missing his warm flashes of affection.
He’s probably missing this as well, although he may still be feeling more from me just because he’s taken my blood several times over the last week. And as I think about that, I’m not entirely sure that’s a good thing. Talk about being able to keep tabs on someone.
It’s nearly dawn and the lassitude that typically accompanies the sunrise starts to settle over me. I strip and crawl into bed, still cozy in the a
fterglow of Terry’s blood.
I’m drifting off to sleep when Nicolas comes in.
Opening my eyes, I see him standing there, watching me. I fight back an automatic smile as he walks up to the bed. He kneels on the floor and brushes the hair back from my face.
“Do not be angry with me. I am only trying to make this as easy for you as I can. And that means I may not tell you everything, at least for now.” His eyes are full of regret and traces of it echo within me.
My tears threaten to well up, and I swallow, suppressing them the best I can.
“I love you. Please understand.” His green eyes search mine for the forgiveness he seeks, and I cannot help but give it. He closes his eyes and whispers, “Thank you.”
The sleep is taking me over, but I perk up a little as he stands and takes off his clothes. He pulls back the covers and, slipping in behind me, wraps his body around mine.
I fall asleep with him cradling me and cannot imagine anything more right.
április 24., kedd
She fed on her own tonight, with little assistance from me. Her confidence is growing, and I feel such a strong sense of pride as I watch her blossom. She will truly surpass all of us as she comes fully into her birthright.
I believe I have identified her Maker, but cannot surmise what drove him out of seclusion and why he chose this particular human. And I cannot imagine what might have occurred to have interrupted her Change. Robert and Alina have not been able to find any trace of him, and so I am left with the endless mystery of her.
THURSDAY
CHAPTER 52
I draw out another mouthful and feel her lifespark flare like the sun, then wink out.
An explosive rush of fantastic and absolute power ignites in my core and expands outward, gaining strength as it bursts through every cell in my body. My entire being shudders as the energy rolls from me in wave after monstrous wave. I’m staring through a bright white veil and can see everything down to its smallest molecule.
