I can’t breathe, can’t think …. It feels like I’ve been thrown into an arctic sea. I must know ….
In just above a strangled whisper I ask, “Turned me … into what?”
Her soft hand still covers mine. Anxiously, I wait for her response and watch as she looks up at the large male standing over her shoulder. He stares down at her and nods once. Her eyes meet mine once again, and for the first time in my life I’m frightened, because within them I see a myriad of conflicting emotions. Suddenly I want nothing more than to shut down my senses. If I can’t hear her then I don’t have to know what’s coming.
The words that would forever be etched into my soul fall from her shimmering pink lips, “A vampire, Severin. You’re like us now—a vampire.”
I stare into her face, utterly dumfounded.
After several seconds my head shakes slowly back and forth and I manage to mutter, “No. Not possible.”
The man speaks up, his clear voice distinctly British, “That’s what I bloody thought as well, mate. It’s all right; the shock will wear off before long. I’m called Ambrose, by the way.”
I struggle to stand, dazed and in shock. I manage to make it to my feet, and still clutching my rapier I say, “I have to get out of here. My family ….”
With a look of sadness in her eyes, the woman says, “I’m sorry, Severin. One day you may be able to see them, but not now. You must rest. You’ve been through so much today.”
“No, you don’t understand—”
She cuts me off as she rises to her feet in one impossibly fluid blur of movement that makes me gasp. “Ah, but I do, Severin. I understand all too well. But without us, you would be dead inside of a few days. Once you have learned the rules of survival in our very different society, then I will give you the choice to set out on your own, but for now, as your maker, you are under my protection and it is my responsibility to see that no harm comes to you.”
I can’t believe that I heard her correctly. “My maker? Who are you?”
“My name is Katerina, Severin. I am originally from the old kingdom of Prussia and I was made into what I am now in the year 1570. The sooner you come to terms with what you are and work on building your strength, the more likely your chances of survival. I’ll be honest with you, Severin. Only the strongest fighters have a chance. Are you what I believe you to be, warrior? Are you a fighter?”
My eyes narrow and I watch her closely. “I always have been. It’s my nature.”
She lifts her chin. “And that’s exactly why I decided to turn you. Come, it won’t be dark here for several more hours yet, and you have much to learn, warrior.”
Chapter Twelve
Present Day
Decisive Action
She seems calm and satiated. I watched her nearly devour the turkey and sliced apple panini that I made for her. She takes a long drink of Perrier and glances around the brick, barrel-vaulted kitchen. Her crossed legs are swinging to and fro as she sits atop the striated marble center island. I offered her a seat earlier, but in typical Calla fashion she wanted to inspect what I was preparing firsthand. I admit; I more than enjoy her closeness and casual demeanor.
“So, this fancy kitchen and the stocked fridge, I have to ask …. Do you eat regular food?”
I chuckle at her inquisitiveness. “Yes, especially after an intense workout … sex or otherwise.”
“But … you didn’t eat just now.”
I finish wiping down the panini press, rinse my hands in the steel sink, and clasp the back of one of her shapely calves. “That’s because my needs were more than met in the bathroom earlier.”
I listen as her breathing grows more rapid, and she says with some effort, “I see.”
Tracing my fingers against the smooth perfection of her skin, I continue, “Human blood is the central component of our diet, Calla. We could survive on animal blood; however it could never provide the strength and vitality that we gain from drinking from people. Going without blood altogether would be the equivalent of a human foregoing water for two weeks … fatal.”
“How often do you drink it?”
“If you are referring to blood, it depends on my activity level—not unlike your hunger. Typically I drink twice a week and eat regular food once a day, which I very much enjoy.
“Do you require human food to survive?”
“No. We would survive on human blood alone. It offers enough vital properties to adequately nourish our bodies. However, consuming food provides additional energy for us. I would compare it to giving an athlete a large bottle of Gatorade during a long game. I’m happy that we can eat and drink on a regular basis. It reminds me of when I was human.”
Her serious eyes gaze up at me and she asks in a whisper, “And just when was that, Severin?”
My eyes roam her flawless face before I say with a long sigh, “I suppose you should know, and now is as good a time as any to tell you, Calla. I have existed as a vampire for two hundred and fifty-eight years and have walked the earth for a total of two hundred and eighty-three years.”
She gasps and tries to conceal her flinch, but it’s inevitable.
Her features reflect both shock and confusion that swiftly morph into disbelief as I continue on, “I was born in the year 1731. At the age of twenty-five, in the year 1756 I was fatally wounded in a sword fight with an adversary over a dispute regarding my sister, Sabine.” I roll my shoulders to throw off the tension. Taking a deep breath, I explain, “A man named Sterling Anson attempted to … have inappropriate relations with her whilst at a party in out plantation home. I challenged him to a swordfight over Sabine’s honor, in which he was slain and I was fatally wounded.”
I give her a moment to allow the foreign information to soak in. After several seconds she nods and says quietly, “Go on.”
“As I lay dying on the lawn, a female vampire—my creator, Katerina—dragged me off into the surrounding forest and turned me. Two years earlier she’d done the same with Ambrose, and once I became what I am now they became my second family. We are a considerably rare and secretive species, Calla. The limited factions that are in existence throughout the world generally keep to themselves unless there is a strong motive for conflict.”
Her striking eyes lock wide open in complete shock. “But, how …. You’re sitting here, talking to me. I still can’t wrap my head around it. I’ve heard your heartbeat. How can that be? It’s borderline unfathomable to me, Severin.”
“You are right. You and I share some similar physical attributes, such as the ability for my heart to beat. My body also becomes warm to the touch after I drink. But I am not as you are. I’m a completely different species—an immortal of sorts, one who is exponentially more powerful than the strongest human. You know the term well, Calla, I need not repeat it.”
She holds her head in her hands in roiling confusion as she stammers, “B-but why? Why did Katerina do it? Why did she turn you?”
Brushing her long hair back from her bare shoulders, I answer, “I asked her the same question, Calla.”
“And what was her answer?”
“She told me that she saw me once in a vision and just knew and that one day it would be clear to me.”
Her lips part, and she whispers the question, “A vision?”
“Yes, Calla. You heard me. You see, my maker was a seer like yourself. She had flashes of the future, though none she could harness or control. She was a seer nonetheless. This is the second reason Valdon chased her relentlessly for over three hundred years.”
“What was the main reason?”
“He was obsessed with her. He claims he loved her.”
“Loved? Where is she now?”
I clamp my teeth together in raw emotion as I grate, “She is gone. Annihilated. Dead.”
“But isn’t it difficult for vampires to die?”
“Yes, Calla. This is true, however … there are ways. Fire, prolonged exposure to sunlight and decapitation are just about the only means of destroyin
g our kind. Anything else would be considered mere injuries, and we would recover swiftly. Our regeneration capabilities are over fifty times as swift as yours.”
Another question is on the tip of her tongue when female laughter comes floating down the hallway toward the kitchen.
“Time for you to meet the rest of my family, Calla.”
She turns her head in the direction of the cheerful banter that is closing on us.
“Oh hey, we heard you, but we’re surprised you have company tonight, Severin.”
Ambrose clasps her to him, his arms wrapped around her narrow waist. They both stop and stare curiously at Calla. The last time she saw Ambrose was on the front lawn, and look how that turned out.
“Hey there, Calla. You’re looking fit.”
Her wide-eyed expression seems to scream, ‘Oh shit, I’m in an underground kitchen with three vampires.’
She remains silent as Alina grins, tosses her hair back, and strides across the shiny floor with palm extended. “Hello Calla. I’m Alina. Welcome.”
Bravely Calla reaches out to accept Alina’s gesture.
“I’ve heard that you’ve already met my guy, Ambrose. Don’t mind him; he’s always teasing the ladies.” She glanced over her shoulder at him and with narrowed eyes she asks suspiciously, “You didn’t frighten her, did you, baby?”
His head jerks back and he fights a grin. “Me? Never.”
“Anyhow, Calla, welcome to our place. Severin told us that he’s keeping an eye on you until things calm down. If there’s anything you need, I’m your girl.”
Calla’s eyes drift over the leggy brunette who looks like she just trotted off a Parisian runway during spring fashion week. Cautiously she responds, “Thanks. I appreciate that, Alina.”
“No worries.” She crosses to the Summit double-door glass wine cooler, and as she crouches down to hunt for a particular label, she calls out to Ambrose, “Hey, babe, grab the kettle corn and the opener. Can’t wait to see what Daniel Craig will be sporting in his latest flick.”
Ambrose shakes his head in mock annoyance and grumbles, “Fucking Daniel Craig. That James Bond tosser always does my head in. The way she gushes over that twit ….”
“Oh, puhleeeze! You know that watching him always leads to prime action for you, big man. Actually, you should trace to England and thank him for his sexy on-screen skills, babe.”
“Woman, you’d best quit while you’re ahead. Later, Calla.” He nods to me, adding, “Severin.”
“Bye, Calla,” Alina chirps breezily as she disappears, carrying a bottle of Keller Estate in her hand.
I shake my head as Calla threads her fingers through mine. “Well, those two certainly are entertaining.”
“Oh, you have no idea. Sometimes I travel for long periods for a break from their constant entertainment.”
“How long have they been together?”
“Since 1990.”
“Did he … turn her?”
It’s clear that she’s hesitant but quite curious. I know Ambrose like I know myself and he wouldn’t mind me sharing, “He did. But only because he had no choice, Calla. You see, Ambrose had drunk from her once and was intrigued by her. At times he kept an eye on her human life. Not a year after that she became involved with a notorious drug dealer who liked nothing better than to shoot her up and have degrading sex with her. If that wasn’t bad enough, he often had a few friends in the apartment to film it, switch up who was holding the camera as they took turns with her. She was too far gone to understand what was really going on. Afterward, without her knowing what had happened, they would sell the videos for profit.”
Her hands fly to cover her mouth. “Oh, dear God. That asshole! W-what happened to her? After that I mean.”
“One night he shot her up with too much heroine. Her system couldn’t handle it and she started to OD on him. Being the considerate boyfriend he was, he and a couple of his thugs tossed her in the trunk of his Audi, drove her out to Isle of Palms and dumped her between some sand dunes. He thought she was dead, and from what Ambrose told me, had he been five minutes later to save her, she would have been.”
“That is beyond warped. What is wrong with people to be that inhumane?”
“Good question.”
“How did he find her?”
He was in the city and passed by to check in on her. He knew that it was only a matter of time before something terrible happened. Anyhow, because her blood was in his system he could locate her and when he did he chose to turn her to save her life. It wasn’t easy for her at first—she had so much to learn—but he was a patient instructor. He adores her and as you can see, the feeling is mutual. No one is spared when those two have sex. I’m surprised the house doesn’t cave in from their banging sessions.”
“You have a very exciting lifestyle, that’s for sure. Tell me more about tracing. How does it work?”
“It’s basically a form of teleportation but it can only be done to a place that we have been before, that we’re familiar with. Also, it takes practice in the beginning. It becomes second nature after you’ve done it a few times. Essentially, you have to one hundred percent envision yourself in the target location for it to work. This can be extremely difficult because often when we need to trace, the circumstances surrounding us are so extreme that calming your thoughts sufficiently can be quite challenging.”
“And what about your enemy … Valdon is his name, right?”
“Yes, what about him?”
She hesitates and finally asks in a fear-laced voice, “What’s the worst-case scenario? I gotta know what I’m facing, Severin.”
The thought of her in his clutches sends my mind into a tailspin. “I’ll never let him get to you, Calla. I’d do anything to keep you safe.”
“But why … why would you do that for me?”
“Because you’re mine. And I protect what belongs to me.”
A sexy blush sweeps across her cheeks and before she can protest I drop my head down to cover her sweet lips in a long, slow kiss. She doesn’t get it now, but she will soon enough.
Chapter Thirteen
Seven Years Earlier
Cary’s Diner; Westin, West Virginia
“Calla! Burgers up for table three!”
“On it!” I hurry through the Friday evening crowd to grab the plates from beneath the heaters in the kitchen window.
We’re always slammed after the home football games and I’m happy to work. It means at least double the usual tips for me, which helps Brant pay our rent.
“When you drop those, c’mon back here, and I’ll have those two steak and gravy plates for ya.”
“Thanks, Mac, sure thing.”
I carefully maneuver around the line of people at the front door who are waiting eagerly for a booth or stool to open up and set the loaded plates down in front of the two hungry football players.
“Here you are. Need additional drinks or napkins?”
“Na, we’re good, baby. What time do ya get off tonight?”
“I’m flattered, but no thanks.”
I watch his brawny buddy nudge him in the ribs with his elbow and say under his breath, “You know Brant would skin your ass alive, boy, if he thought you was sniffin’ around his baby sister.”
In an instant, things go from awkward to just weird. The two huge seniors are never at a loss for female attention, and I’m caught off guard by their interest. I glance down at the table and mutter, “Ah, enjoy your burgers then.”
I’m hurrying back through the crowd to get the next order when an older man wearing a worn Stetson touches my forearm gently. “Refill darlin’?” he asks kindly.
“Oh, sure.” I smile and turn to cross to the coffee pots when I hear Marlene call out loud enough for me to hear, “Well, she’s sane enough to hold down a waitress job. Only a matter of time before she goes crazy, just like her trailer trash momma did.”
I freeze as my hand reaches out for the full coffee pot. The table full of girls snicker behi
nd me and I want nothing more than to dump the hundred and twenty degree pot over the head of my lifelong tormenter. Instead I take a deep breath, wrap my hand around the orange plastic handle, and turn back to my table, hopefully not giving her satisfaction over the numerous stab wounds she and her sister have inflicted on me since I was seven years old. Even if I could, what revenge could I seek? Her parents own half the damn town, and the last thing Brant and I need is trouble. We are already flying under the radar living together in our tiny apartment. I’m just sixteen and he’s acting as my guardian. I worry about him. He’s only eighteen and when he finished up high school last year he went straight for the highest paying job around here, also the most deadly: working in the mines. Every time he’s on one of his long shifts I’m a nervous wreck. Last year there was a deadly cave-in only one county over from ours and they pulled only one of the fourteen out alive. I’ve got to help him find something better, but he’s determined to get us out of here, to find us a better life. And one thing I know about my brother, he’d kill himself to do it.
* * *
I’m wiping down my last table while scanning to check that the caddy is refilled when the bell over the steel and glass door chimes.
“Sorry, but—”
“Just me, Calla.”
I smile at my blond haired brother. “Oh hey, you normally wait in the car for me. I’m just finishing up. You want a coke or something?”
“Yeah, make it a sprite. Why don’t you come sit at the counter with me for a second? I got something important to share.”
I clutch the floppy wet rag and cross over to him. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“Sit on down and I’ll tell ya.”
“Let me get your drink first.”
“Na, I’m too worked up to wait. Here, have a seat.”
Slowly, I sit on the red pleather swivel stool and turn to him. With our knees nearly touching, he leans in to say quietly, “Think I finally found the way to get us outta here, Calla.”
Charleston Past Midnight Page 9
