“Dorian,” he whispered, holding out a bloody hand to him. “Please . . . .” His eyes pleaded with him not to do this thing.
He knew his father wouldn’t live even if he brought him home. His wounds were too serious.
“I’m sorry father.” He turned and ran.
He saw the steam of his breath as he lumbered through the snow. It had become cumbersome and hard to run through. There, in plain sight was his home. He was almost there. He heard no more screams. The wolves must’ve finished his father off.
Oh God that meant . . .
He turned, feeling as if he were moving in slow motion and there stood one of the wolves, the fur around its mouth soaked with blood. It snarled and drooled.
Dorian fumbled with the bow and arrow and finally shot at the thing, but it was too late. The wolf pounced on him. He fell onto his back and tried to shield his throat from its gnashing jaws, all the while trying to push it off.
He felt its teeth sink into his cheek and shouted for “help.” A foolish gesture in the midst of the barren woods and he knew it. He was going to die. He was quickly losing blood and consciousness when he felt a peculiar thing. The weight of the wolf was suddenly gone. He heard a whooshing sound and what sounded like a man’s voice. And that was all he remembered before the world went black.
When he regained consciousness, his eyes fluttered open and he saw the flames of a fire burning in a hearth. He heard the crackle of kindling and the sound of the wind blowing fiercely outside. His head ached as he turned side to side to better view his surroundings. He was lying on a floor beside the warming fire. He saw a man’s boots, the tails of his coat and a glimmer of the side of his face as he knelt down and stoked the kindling. The fire roared.
“Where am I?” Dorian’s voice cracked with thirst and he felt a sticky warm fluid on his neck. Every movement was agony. Then he remembered; he’d left his father to die out there in the woods. He hadn’t even tried to help him. How could he have done such a thing?
“You could not have saved him.” A voice came, low, calm and soothing.
“How did you know . . . ?”
“I hear your thoughts.”
“Where am I? Who are you?” He became fully alert and struggled to sit up. The room pitched around him as wave upon wave of dizziness caused him to lie back down. His head pounded and his limbs trembled.
The man knelt down next to him and he finally got a good look at his savior. He was a young man, about the same age as he with shoulder length blonde hair and large dark brown eyes. His facial features were perfectly proportioned. He wore a black velvet jacket and at his wrists was a hint of an embroidered linen shirt beneath.
Dorian couldn’t speak. He stared at this stunningly handsome man who was no doubt an aristocrat, judging by his manner of dress. These were not the kind of clothes one went hunting in. So, what was he doing in the stark, remote woods on such a miserable day?
“My name is Malachi.”
Dorian was startled by the softness of his voice. He attempted to get up and extend his hand to him. “Thank you for saving my life.” He felt dizzy and weak from the small exertion.
Malachi grasped his upper arm before he fell and gently released him back onto the plush pillow and bear rug on the floor.
“You’ve lost a great deal of blood and still it pours. In your present condition you won’t live long.”
Dorian was alarmed. “What is this place and why did you bring me here if I am beyond all hope?”
“This is one of my dwellings. I have many. And you are not beyond hope. There’s a way for you to live, my friend.” He knelt down and presented Dorian with a silver wine goblet. “Drink.”
His thirst was unbearable. He took a large swallow and grimaced at the taste. “What is this?” It was warm, thick, sweet and had a coppery scent. Could it be what he thought it was?
“Yes, it’s exactly what you think it is.” Malachi’s eyes locked on his. His stare was unnerving.
“You . . . gave me blood to drink?” Dorian was mortified.
Malachi nodded.
“Why would you do that? Whose blood is it?”
“You’d be dead now if I hadn’t. It’s my blood. It will buy you a little time, but not much. I’m offering you a way to live. Shall I go on or allow you to die?”
Dorian thought of his mother and sister. His mother’s death was coming soon and his sister was slowly starving to death. The guilt of what he’d done, leaving his father to be eaten alive by wolves weighed heavy on his conscience. He knew neither he nor his father would have lived if he’d tried to help him, still the knowledge did not quell his conscience.
He couldn’t die and leave them alone. He had to take care of them. There was no-one else. And yet, he feared this man who promised him life in the face of death.
“What are you?” Dorian’s voice was but a raspy whisper.
“I’m a vampire.” Malachi’s face was no more than a few inches from his own.
“That’s impossible! There’s no such thing!” Dorian’s fright returned ten-fold.
“Ah, but there is. And as fate would have it, I’m the only thing standing between you and death. Will you die or accept the new life I’m offering?”
Another wave of dizziness came over Dorian. He felt his body becoming weaker. Even in his poor physical condition, he struggled to clear his mind and weigh the options set before him. A new life, yes I will take any kind of life over death. I must!
He didn’t need to speak the words. Malachi heard his thoughts.
“Very well, but you’ll have to do something you might find distasteful. You must drink directly from my throat. That is where the powerful blood which makes us what we are comes from.”
Dorian gasped. “I can’t do that!” The notion of biting into the flesh of another human being was not just distasteful, it was sickening. Then again, if this creature was what he claimed to be, he wasn’t human.
“You can Dorian. I chose you because you’re strong in mind and body. With your intellect and keen intuition you will thrive in this new life. You have no idea under Heaven what you’ll be capable of. Your family, they are of great importance to you, are they not? There will be nothing you can’t give them. You’re also unusually beautiful and as close to perfection as a human male can be. You’re absolutely exquisite!”
Malachi unbuttoned the collar of his shirt as he spoke, exposing his throat. A large vein pulsed on the right side of his neck. In the dark chamber, Dorian couldn’t see how pale Malachi was. When the creature put his hand behind his head, pulling him close and his lips brushed the skin of his neck, he felt how cold and hard his flesh was.
“Do it now Dorian! If you hesitate any longer, it will be too late.”
“What will I become? A monster who feeds on the blood of others to live? I cannot!”
“Things aren’t always what they seem. I see you’re repulsed by the feel of my flesh. I’m cold because I’ve not yet fed. To the outside world you and I will pass as humans, as long as we feed. All will be explained to you once the deed is done. I will be by your side as your friend and teacher. I promise. Now drink!” Malachi pushed Dorian’s face against his throat and threw his head back.
Tentatively Dorian bit down lightly.
“You must bite down hard and keep your lips on the wound until the blood ceases to flow.”
Dorian closed his eyes and did as he was instructed. He would take this new life, whatever it was and embrace it. He didn’t know where his strength came from, but his mind was clear and focused as he bit into Malachi’s throat. He felt the skin break. The blood flowed from the wound much quicker than he’d thought possible. Within mere seconds his mouth was flooded with it. Surprisingly, the liquid was not cold. It was warm and somewhat pleasant. He swallowed as fast as he could to keep up with the steady stream. Finally it slowed down and stopped.
Dorian leaned away from Malachi. He felt a measure of vigor come back to him. And the strength kept coming, wave after
wave of it until he felt invincible. He was overwhelmed by it.
He was at once in awe of his power and the promise of immortality. There must be a price to pay for this gift, he thought.
He turned his attention back to Malachi who was speaking quietly to him. “You’ve almost passed over. Although, it will take many years for you to gain the powers I possess. I will school you in all you need to know to live in this new life. Look at your mortal wounds from the wolves attack and you will understand what you’re becoming.”
Dorian tore his shirt off quickly so he could examine his upper body. There was nothing there. No wounds or blood. Not even a blemish. His skin was perfect.
He gasped as a stabbing pain took hold of his stomach. It was the most intense pain he’d ever felt in his life.
Malachi reached out to steady him. “Your body is dying. You must rid it of all that you consumed as a human being. Come.”
He led him to a small room with nothing in it but a dresser table with a small wash basin and cloth on top of it. A wooden box with a hole was fastened to the floor.
Immediately he emptied his body of all food and liquids. His stomach roared as he vomited the last of its contents.
Once this was accomplished, he felt better than he’d ever felt in his entire life. He was so strong! He could literally feel the muscles rippling in his arms, his chest, his torso and his legs. He felt the powerful blood coursing through his veins.
He looked down at his hands and stared at them for what seemed like forever. They were flawless. He wanted to see what he looked like now. And he was ravenous, although the thought of food made him queasy. He was starving for . . . what? For blood!
Malachi stood in the doorway watching him intently, his head cocked to one side, his arms folded as he leaned against the door frame.
“I want to see what I look like.” Dorian walked out into the large room where the fire in the hearth seemed to burn brighter now. Its flames cast an eerie light into the dark corners of the room. He looked for a mirror. There was none. Nor were the windows visible. At each hung heavy dark green colored velvet drapes. The fire and a few candles provided all the available light.
Dorian gazed at Malachi. Somehow, he was even more mesmerizing and handsome than when he’d first laid eyes on him. Actually, everything was more vivid. Everywhere he looked his eyes fixed on an object for long periods of time. He was hypnotized by the beauty of it all.
Then he remembered; his family. Before hearing anymore about his new nature he needed to know about them.
“My mother and sister? Are they alright?”
Malachi’s eyes drifted away from him. He looked down.
Dorian’s heart leapt into his throat. No! Don’t say it, don’t let it be true!
“I’m truly sorry, Dorian. Your mother passed away a few hours ago.”
Dorian’s heart beat fast; his palms were soaked with sweat. When he looked at them, he was shocked to see a reddish tint in the moisture.
I’ve not kept my promise. I let her die alone. I said I’d be there and I wasn’t. And now, I’m this thing who sweats blood!
“What have I done?” he whispered, still staring at his hands. “And my sister?”
“She’s with your mother now, preparing her for burial.”
“You can see them?”
“Yes.”
“Why can’t I?”
“You do not possess that power yet, nor can you read minds. You won’t have these gifts until you grow older; much older.”
“How old are you?”
“I died and came into this life at the age of twenty-five. In reality, I’m three-hundred and four years old.”
Three-hundred and four years old. Malachi was one of the immortals. He never thought they existed. And now he was one of them.
Dorian paced back and forth, running his hands through his hair, deep in thought. He stopped at each window, hoping to catch a reflection of himself. There was none. He felt physically strong but emotionally weak. He was confused by these conflicting views of himself.
Abruptly, he stopped pacing. “I must go home. I need to see to my sister. She’s had nothing but broth to eat in days. She’ll need food and I need to be by her side to deal with my mother’s . . .” His words trailed away. He couldn’t really comprehend that she’d died.
He felt a twinge of guilt at what he perceived as his abandonment of her; not to mention, he’d left her husband in the woods to die.
Malachi spoke softly, placing his hand on Dorian’s shoulder. “You cannot go outdoors. Not until the darkness of night falls.”
“But you were out in the woods. You rescued me in the daylight hours.”
“Again, I’m older. You’re a newly made vampire. You’re unable to survive even a hint of sun. It will be centuries before you can go out in the daytime, and even then, the sky must be very gray.” Crossing the room, he went into a small doorway, leaving Dorian to wonder where he’d gone and when he’d return.
Dorian stood in silence, his eyes scanning the room again and marveling at how differently he saw things now. He pulled back one of the heavy drapes, wanting to see the snowflakes with his newly enhanced vision. He felt a strange burning sensation in his fingertips and then the pain. They were on fire. “My God!” he exclaimed.
With preternatural speed, Malachi appeared at his side and swiftly closed the drapes. He doused the flames with a cloth wrapped in ice.
Bloody Hell! How was he able to move that quickly? He thought. He’d gotten ice and wrapped his hand in a matter of seconds.
“Please, sit.” Malachi gestured toward the elegant burgundy couch which sat across from the fireplace.
Dorian did as he was told.
“I do not want you to be frightened, nor overwhelmed by what you are. Much like our former human selves, we still crave the company of others. I suppose there are some who do not, but I do.”
“Why me? Is it simply because you wanted a companion?”
“That’s partly true. However, I chose you after careful consideration.” His eyes pierced Dorian’s.
Dorian looked away from the blazing intensity of Malachi’s dark eyes. It dawned on him then. He’d said after careful consideration, did that mean he’d been watching him?
A chill ran up his spine at the thought of it. He never felt as if he was being watched. This creature could’ve killed him at any time.
“I assure you, Dorian. I mean you no harm. I found you fascinating and was drawn to your youthful beauty.”
“Are you a homosexual then?”
Malachi laughed, shaking his head. “No. I wanted your friendship. I like women very much.” He said this last softly.
Dorian caught a glimpse of coldness in his eyes, the undercurrent of danger in his words. It was fleeting, but it was there.
“It’s time to take care of first things first. I feel your hunger. It’s unlike any you’ve ever experienced, is it not?”
“Yes.” Dorian felt empty. The strength he’d felt earlier was gone. It was as if his veins were void of life-sustaining blood.
“They are.” Again, Malachi answered an unasked question. “You shall feed tonight. We’ll start off small. You’re not ready to feast upon human blood yet. Tonight we will take vengeance on the wolves that attacked you. We shall feed on them and they will no longer be a danger to your sister.”
“My sister! How will I explain myself to her?”
“You may visit her as often as you like, after you’ve fed and only at night. Your skin will be warm and she will suspect nothing, but you cannot remain with her. You will tell her you’ve accepted a position in London and will live in a flat there. You must never stay anywhere in the house during the day. It’s too risky. When we sleep, it is like death and you would be vulnerable to those who might seek to hurt you. Of course you’ll stay with me. I own homes all over the world.”
“Can I bring her something to eat?” Dorian asked.
“I’ve already seen to it, my friend. A ba
sket was delivered to her door a short time ago filled with bread, meat, cheese and drink.”
“I cannot repay you.” Dorian hung his head in shame.
“Do not trouble yourself with such thoughts. I’m extremely wealthy. Together, we will do marvelous things and you shall become as rich and powerful as I. As for your sister, she will be well cared for until her dying day.”
Dorian felt a surge of pride. He wouldn’t show any emotional weakness to Malachi. Somehow, he knew it to be unwise to do so. “I will pay you back with interest. You have my word.”
Malachi nodded slightly. “Very well. If that’s what you wish.” He got up and moved across the room gracefully, as if he floated across the floor and stopped in the darkest corner of the large room. There stood something covered in a large, black cloak. With one swift movement of his hand he removed the cover, revealing a full length mirror.
Dorian walked over to join Malachi and stared at the mirror. The surface was encased in ornately carved wood; however, where the glass should be was a shining silver overlay.
Malachi stood off to one side. “This is a Grimm mirror, Dorian. It’s the only surface in which a vampire can see his own reflection. It’s priceless and there are very few of them in existence. Behold yourself with your new vampire eyes.”
Hesitantly, Dorian looked into the mirror and ceased to breathe. Dear God! I’m the same, but different.
His black hair was unruly as always, but it shone brighter and he noticed a bluish-silvery hue in it. His blue eyes burned with a fierceness that was hot and icy at the same time. His cheekbones were still high and his jaw strong. The color of his skin startled him the most. It was very light and completely flawless. I’m stunning! He was completely mesmerized by his looks. It was less a matter of vanity than awe.
“Your color will return once you’ve fed this evening. Humans will never suspect what you are. They will see only how very beautiful you are. You will be irresistible to whoever crosses your path.” Malachi stood behind him, peering into the mirror as well.
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