Pick Your Poison

by Jeanette Lynn

  Strange, to say nothing and want to shout everything, to feel so many things and wish to express them all at once, and yet words escape you. And all you have to offer is a look—a silent form of communication when nothing seems right. It was nothing... and yet it was something.

  Watching each other, an odd sense of wonder and comfort suffused me. The sensation was foreign as it washed over my addled psyche, and yet somehow not. Like a well-worn blanket, thick and broken in, yet still like new, warmly inviting and deliciously soft as it soothed, it fell around me.

  Not quite understanding any of this crap, I took it anyway and held on tight—as if someone was holding out a hand for me to grasp, asking for the same in return if I was willing, if I knew how. It was enough.

  Divit’s eyes finally skirted away, taking away his eyeball pushing warm and fuzzies with him.

  Was it a vampire thing? Was he making me feel that way to keep me calm? Enthralling me? But more importantly than all of that, “I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

  Gaze drifting back to meet mine, the vampire canted his head. “No, I’ll make sure of it.”

  The shadows across his face were clear enough under his eyes at this angle, rimming his eyelids and dusting his cheeks, giving him the look of a broken, though somewhat sinister looking, man.

  “But you gave me blood and mine’s not clotting now.”

  The shadows darkened. Or are those shadows at all, I thought, as he tensed.

  Call me a fool, but this is kind of my life here on the line and I wanted to know. “Apparently, from the sounds of it, that’s not normal.”

  “It’s not.” His expression didn’t change while he just stood there, like a tall, living statue. If not for the small tick high on his cheek near his ear, I’d have thought him turned to stone.

  Uh-huh. Brows pulling down as I shifted on my belly, an intravenous drip in my arm attached to a bag of blood to try and keep me from croaking right here and now jangling along with me, I peered up at him.

  “Have you ever given anyone your blood before?”

  Reluctant to say much of anything, he grew distant and terse. “No.”

  At this point and time, I couldn’t care less. “Isn’t that how you’d turn me?”

  “Somewhat, yes.” His lips barely moved as he spoke, his face drawn and tight. Nothing else on him moved, he was so tense. Gargoyle mode—that was the only way to describe him right now.

  “So... you know how to do it then, if this doesn’t stop?” Lifting a finger, I pointed to the red patch blossoming on my neck, afraid to peek behind the bandages for fear of what, exactly, I might find.

  Hesitation heavy in the air, like a bad smell hanging around the room, my anticipation and flat out sheer expectation of getting some real friggin’ answers here grew, the longer he took responding.

  “I’m confident enough,” was what he decided on.

  Really? His answer instilled none in me.

  I had a horrible sinking feeling we were all a bit in way over our heads, Mr. Million Years Old included.

  “Can’t we at least try medical intervention or something first, huh?” Good old fear started to creep in, panic bringing up the rear, my hands shaking slightly as I slipped them out of sight. “Who knows, right? Maybe we’ll get lucky and it’ll work.”

  Divit lost all hesitation. “It won’t.”

  Eyes narrowing until they were no more than angry little slits, there was something fishy going on around here, and it certainly wasn’t day old sushi. What isn’t he telling me?

  Gritting my teeth, I muttered sarcastically, “And since you know so much and so little all at once, oh-wise-one, please, fill me in.”

  Pushing off the door, Divit took his time as he came to stand over me, bending down when he reached the side of the bed.

  Hovering over me, his arms on either side of my hips, his face so close I could practically taste him, he bent down further, until only inches separated our torsos. We stayed like that, mere centimeters separating the tips of our noses. Unwilling to say uncle first, I was going cross-eyed from the awkward stare down.

  “Can I... help you?” Awkward blurting was starting to become my thing, and this time was no different.

  Instead of some snappy comeback or snarky reply, the strange man simply leaned in closer, all yummy smelling and kind of cute with his lip curling up like that in the corner, and rubbed my nose with his. Nuzzling along my cheek, he pressed a warm, reassuring kiss to my temple.

  That freaky, wondrous, unsettling contentment from earlier filled me anew and I shuddered, melting from the inside out.

  Whispering against my skin, my world slowly crumbled as he said the very thing I dreaded against my skin. “Because I gave you my blood, and none of it will work now. I was trying to save you. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

  Shit. Shit-shit-shit. Closing my eyes, I swallowed past the lump in my throat. Lips trembling, a lone tear tracked down my cheek, then another. This is it.

  Divit brushed the small drops of moisture rolling down my chin away with his thumb, his lips trailing after the wetness.

  “I’ll make it up to you.” His words were soft and low, almost a whisper, though they felt like a promise, coming out choked.

  He pulled back in the end, clearing his throat, and stood back. Turning his back on me, he fidgeted in place, stiffening visibly. Awkwardness all around, the vampire straightened to his full height, tugging at his shirt anxiously as if to release all the rumpled creases. A low, strained hiss muffled in his throat, he made as if to leave without another word.

  Right at the door he paused, his hands fisted on the door-jamb. The move screamed, I don’t want to be here but it’s the right thing to do.

  Voice low and curt, almost a soft growl, it was so gravelly, I gave him what he wanted: an out. “Get out. Just go. I want... I want to be left alone.”

  There was a crack and the sound of wood splintering, a hiss and a snarl echoing in the small space. “As you wish,” I heard him rasp quietly, and my chest hurt as if he’d crushed it with those three little words. Maybe he had.

  “Just fucking leave already.” As I rolled to my side, curling up into a tiny ball, Divit did just that.

  Punctured, fractured, dearly departed

  I didn’t know what time it was when a noise woke me. I was freezing, trembling again, that same fire in my belly stronger than ever. I was wet and sticky all over and I couldn’t recall ever having fallen asleep. My chest was doing a funky glug-glug as it chugged and stuttered churlishly.

  Divit, leaning against the wall in the farthest corner of Callie’s downstairs guestroom, though distancing himself, kept his eyes trained on me.

  “Hooked myself up to your I.V. about an hour ago, thought it would be easier this way. I’ll have to finish it soon, though.”

  Sauntering over, kicking the door shut with his foot on his way, he peeled his shirt off, casual as you please. Tossing the balled up fabric to the floor, his free hand tugged the sheet covering me to my feet. What was once a pristine, white sheet was stained crimson with blood—my blood. Gasping in disbelief, I flat out gawked, shocked at the sight.

  Exposed, nothing on but the skin I was born with, sticky with more of that lovely red stuff, my skin prickled as Divit reached out, starting at my ankles and working his way up to run his hands slowly up my sides.

  “What are you g-g-g-g-oing to d-d-d-do?” My teeth chattered as I spoke—though my body automatically responded, death bed and blood loss be damned—click-clacking noisily as he leaned down. Hovering over me, he pressed our bodies close, skin to skin.

  “We’re going to drink from each other, and your heart will stop. I’ll continue to feed you and drink from you, and it will form a bond between us, but don’t be scared.”

  “Oh, r-r-r-right, don’t be s-s-s-cared, he s-s-s-says.” Easier said than done. And that is my explanation? Well, gee, thanks, bud!

  Divit’s lips tipped up at the corners at all the huff and bluster in my weakened
voice, coupled with the look on my face.

  “Drink. We need to begin.” Cupping my nape, he brought my lips to his neck. Warmth brushed my tongue as it instinctively darted out and I caught my first taste. Salty, a tad sweet, mixed in with that strange, spicy smell, it hit my senses. I loved it—wanted more.

  Divit grunted as if to hold back a moan while I gave an experimental lick. He peeled back the bandage at my neck, gentle in his ministrations as the warmth of his fingers seeped into my cold skin. Without needing any prompting, my head dipped and I went back for more.

  After a few sips, I mumbled, “Vampire blood tastes sorta like funky pineapple salsa. You guys are sick bastards, did you know that? That’s just fucked up.”

  Face buried in my neck, fangs out, Divit paused, pulling back to shake his head. “Pineapple... salsa? Please tell me this is your human body having an odd reaction to my blood again?”

  Going in for another taste, my gums started to throb as I lapped eagerly. Pulling back, I blinked, smacking my lips, and shrugged. “Spicy pineapple salsa, with a hint of jalapeno juice, but there’s a sort of... how shall I say it...? Musk to it?”

  Divit scowled and waited, as if hoping for more. Hah, who wants a better explanation for crap now?

  “What?” Frowning back, a tiny little crease lining my forehead as his dark brows shot over his eyes, we stared at each other.

  “God, you’re serious,” Divit muttered, disgust, amusement, and revulsion only a few of the myriad of emotions flitting across his face at breakneck speed, evident in his voice.

  Shaking his head as he grumbled unflattering bologna under his breath, he gripped the back of my head, forcing my face back to his neck.

  “Hey- Oomph.”

  “Drink,” he ordered, a firm hand holding me in place. “No more stalling. I don’t want to wait too long.”

  Fear slithered through me and I trembled. Is he serious? Let’s hurry this crap up so he can get it over with? Har-har, no big deal?! My heart is going to stop! And I’m just supposed to be all calm about it? I’m going to die! Die—like dead-dead, and I have no choice in the matter! But don’t freak out? Yeah... not gonna happen.

  Going back to my neck, the talented, albeit annoying—aggravating, and more often than not demanding and rude—man soon had me squirming beneath him as he started nipping and biting at my tender skin.

  “Drink, sweetheart,” my vampire lover urged caressingly, his voice low and husky, pausing between feeding at my neck and teasing me beyond all distraction whenever I made as if to stop. Too weak to protest or maul him back properly, it wasn’t a fair fight.

  It didn’t take long and my heart was soon tap dancing the wrong beat, stutter-stepping along crookedly, just as Divit had said.

  I was ever so thankful for the whole fade to black scenario as everything blurred and whirled, no sight, no touch, no sound, and I was sucked into the abyss, because who really wants to remember dying?

  Clarity defines us

  Sometimes things come to you with crystal clarity, like the rain has stopped and the clouds have cleared to make way for the sun, and sometimes you wake up tied to the bed with funny looking rope around your hands and feet and find there’s a large, hairy being plastered on top of you.

  As with anything in my life, crystal clarity just wasn’t on the menu.

  A heavy, rumbling snore left the contentedly sleeping, enormous beast nuzzling my chest. I screamed, kicking my arms and legs in their restraints until the wolf looking beast grunted and lifted his massive muzzle. Another high pitched, terror ridden noise left my throat as the creature blinked its eyes groggily and chuffed, its thick tongue lolling out.

  “Help! Help! Help!” Rocking the bed frame as I wrenched my limbs from side to side, my terrified shrieks bouncing off the walls raucously, I sucked in another breath to scream, starting when Mary, of all people, came marching in.

  “Oh, I can’t believe you! What in Hades’ Hell fire do you think you’re doing, dog breath?” Glaring balefully at the half-wolf, half-man as he lifted himself up, the demoness hissed, horns steaming and out on full display as her nostrils flared. “Byron! You get off of her this instant! Do you hear me?” Marching over, she shocked the heck out of me as she produced a rolled up newspaper from the folds of her hastily donned, ratty, fluffy pink bathrobe and started beating the humongous werewolf over the nose. “You’ll come sneak in here to cuddle with her, but you won’t even spoon me?! I am your Alpha Bitch, damn it! You grape smuggling, hairy, oversized... little prick!”

  Byron rolled, hopping off of me and the bed in one swift move, and shifted, ripping the newspaper out of the crazed succubus’ hands to growl, snapping his jaws in her face. “Marguerite will listen, too! Conniving, three-timing little she-devil! Alpha Bitch is Byron’s bitch and no one else’s, pack politics be damned. If Marguerite does not want Byron sleeping around then Byron’s Alpha Bitch will not, either!”

  Jabbing a fat finger in her face, uncaring of their slight height discrepancy as her taller stature dwarfed his thicker but shorter one, he grabbed her wrist, snatching her paper and tugging her towards his wide body. Thick arm securing firmly around her waist, he half carried, half dragged her from the room, his other hand slapping her ass with the newspaper he’d confiscated as he lambasted her up and down the wall.

  Mary was strangely silent throughout the whole ordeal, an arm cinched around the wolf’s neck tight. The long fingernails of her other hand twirled through his thick chest hair as her bare feet dragged along the floor, a slightly glazed look in her eyes.

  I was left staring after them, shuddering as I heard a loud smack, two snarls, followed by another slap and a moan. Blech. I didn’t want to know. At. All. Ever.

  Very... creepy, and cave man-ish, but okay. To each their own, I guess.

  Duncan could be heard from somewhere in the general vicinity of the kitchen/living room area whistling low. “Now there’s a mental picture I’ll never be able to get out of my head, and don’t ask me what those two were thinking. Ugh.”

  Spira snorted out a laugh, and Stefan made a disgusted sound.

  Head still spinning, I blinked and shuddered, wriggling my tied limbs. “Did I stay dead? Oh, my god... Is this Hell?”

  “You’re not in Hell. Promise.”

  A familiar snort-laugh had my head whipping up.

  “How are you feeling?” Callie popped her head around the corner, fingers curling around the doorframe as she tried for a smile.

  Thinking that over for a moment, I couldn’t decide. Testing my limbs again, I settled on the first thing that popped into my mind. “Weird. I feel really weird.”

  Callie nodded in understanding, popping fully into view, and went to walk in. “I’m glad you woke up,” she admitted, a note of hesitation in her voice. “I know Stefan said you would, but I was afraid you wouldn’t.”

  Me too, but I didn’t say it aloud. Nose wrinkling, I sniffed. “And kind of hungry.” A wonderful smell hit my nose just then and my mouth watered. Unlike usual hunger pains, this was a sharp, stabbing pang, gnawing at me to eat right this minute.

  Remembering what had happened, a fit of melancholy hit me. I’m not normal anymore. Wow...

  And then another hunger pang hit, my face twisting into a grimace. If my stomach could, I’m sure it would have snarled at me. “Argh. Ah. Really hungry.”

  Eyes widening, Callie took a step back, then another. Bangle bracelets jingling on her wrists, she tried for a huge, fake smile, her lips trembling as she failed miserably. Letting out one of her put-on, fake chiming laughs she knows I can’t stand, she smoothed her hands down her long, flowing black and white flower patterned dress.

  “Alright, uh... you just wait right here and let me go get Divit.” Head nodding vigorously, thick hair swishing about her shoulders, she was still babbling as she took off, leaving a swirl of lavender and mint and something else—a sort of sweet something I couldn’t quite put my finger on... Cinnamon? Ginger? Whatever it was it must’ve been from
whatever sweet breakfast treat she was cooking up in the kitchen, and it smelled delicious.

  “But I...” Before I could utter another word, she was gone. “Well, save me some, then. Whatever it is!” I called after her, shaking my head.

  Brow wrinkling, I frowned. “Why is everyone here? And why would I need Divit to eat? Don’t you have any food around here? Hey! Why are you hurrying off? I was kidding about the food.” Not really, since I’d actually just now remembered, but still. “Untie me!” My shouts went unanswered and my voice grew louder, booming off the walls as I scraped my skin raw fighting at the ties.

  “He left last night, but he said he’ll be back. You can’t untie those, you know. They’re magicked.” Stefan came strolling in then, Mr. Perfect Timing, as if he owned the place, studying me carefully with that stupid, all knowing smile of his that always freaked me out.

  He left? No. My lips drew down and I felt even funnier than before. “Did he say when he’ll be back?” I’d swear I didn’t have a heartbeat anymore, but then why does it feel like it just plummeted?

  Rounding the bed, Stefan’s head tilted as he studied me, a flash of something drawing across his features before it was gone as he exposed the uppermost part of his neck.

  Dark eyes sharp, his words, as usual, were sharper. “No. Hmmm... I am rather curious, I must say, what with you being new and all... Does that bother you?”

  “I don’t know, should it?” Arching a brow, stomach doing crazy flip flops, hunger tenfold as he stood over me like that, so close I could smell his breath, his skin, the after shave he likes to use, his deodorant, and something else, something slightly deeper. It was a sort of inherent, human smell, now that I thought on it, similar to Callie’s yet different. I wasn’t about to take the bait.

  Glancing down, the necromancer picked up my wrist, tsk-ing as he pressed his thumb along my veins. “No pulse. Guess it worked.” His fingers stayed, tapping the mixed colored rope—bits of twine and leaves and other cuts of green mixed in. “It should, maybe...”