by N. M. Howell
A sudden motion from the corner of the room caught my eye. It looked like someone was standing in the corner. I tried to focus on what appeared to be a figure, but I couldn't quite place it. Was it Adrian?
“Who is that?” I asked while squinting.
Sirus paused with a grin. He leaned in and planted a loving kiss upon my cheek before pressing his lips to my ear.
“It's your early birthday gift,” he cooed. “I thought this might liven you up.”
As my eyes focused on the figure, I realized it wasn't standing. It was sitting. In a chair. Bound.
And it was human.
“No,” I grunted.
I shoved Sirus and turned over on the bed, shoving my face into the pillow. In one swift motion, he took my arm and pulled me upright to my feet.
“You must do this, Riley. You must save yourself,” he explained. “It's the only way you're going to survive.”
“I can't do this, Sirus,” I pleaded, desperation oozing from my tongue. I shook my head and forcibly looked away from the slumped human body. My limbs began to shake with fear or rage, I wasn’t sure which.
“You must,” he argued. “Please, you must.”
He fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around my waist as he peered into my eyes. I had never seen him look so vulnerable. I stood shocked in the center of his bedroom, my hands frozen in the air. I looked towards the corner and saw that the human was sleeping. His arms were bound to the chair, but his mouth remained free. It hung open as he slept peacefully, unmoved by our little commotion.
“Riley. We can't lose you. Not this close to the Centennial de Sang. We need you,” he growled. “Our coven simply can't lose another vampling to this morality spectrum that you've been clinging to.”
“If you want me to stay, change your ways!” I cried. “I can't kill! I won't!”
“You have already seen that the synthetic injection no longer works for you. What about the rest of the coven, hm? What of them? Will they not suffer the same fate?” he challenged.
I looked down at the tousled blond hair. He looked much different than his regular polished sel. He looked more…human. He pressed his face to my torso, and I stared down at him, my eyes wide and my mouth hung open. I couldn't bear to see him this way. While he had given me pain, he had also given me life. I shivered as I considered my allegiance to him. A tear rolled down my cheek when I looked back at the sleeping human, taking a shaky breath as I patted Sirus on the shoulder. He may be a ruthless leader, but he had allowed me my own personal luxuries since my turning. No other leader would have allowed their vampling to survive off of synthetic blood, that was for sure. An inner battle raged within me.
“Alright,” I whispered.
He rose immediately and took my shoulders, looking me straight in the eye.
“You mean it?” he asked breathlessly. “You'll do it?”
“I will try,” I replied.
I trembled beneath his touch; beneath the weight of my decision.
“I promise he won't feel a thing. I've put him under a hypnotic spell to prevent the pain. It will be like he's slipping right into a deeper sleep,” Sirus assured me. “He won't feel anything. I promise.”
I shook my head.
“I'm scared,” I whispered.
“Don't be. Should I fetch Adrian? I hear you've taken to him. It might make you feel comforted while you feed,” he offered.
I shook my head again.
“I want to do this by myself,” I replied.
“You are such a brave vampling,” he whispered. “I admire your strength and determination. That's why I chose to keep you here.”
“I don't understand.”
I was crying again. The horrible sob took over my throat and forced me into his arms where I buried my face into his silk shirt. He smelled like roses. It reminded me of the field where I had been bitten by that scout...
“I chose you for your mind, Riley. You didn't fear the death that was coming. You didn't shy away from the fangs. You welcomed them. You were ready to face that darkness with all your might, so I kept you here,” he explained. “I kept you and gave your strength a purpose.”
I smiled through my tears.
“And you found Adrian,” he added. “Or he found you. He fancies you quite a bit, my dear. He might be your match which means he'll be yours forever.”
“Forever,” I whispered. “That's such a long time.” I remembered what Adrian had said about his thoughts on the matter. He didn’t believe in forever. And I wasn’t sure I did, either. But still, I would be lying to myself if I said Sirus’s words didn’t ignite a spark of longing within my core.
“It is a long time. That's why we want to secure your place here,” he reminded me. “With your family.”
He was guiding me slowly towards the corner of the room. I watched the human's chest rise and fall rhythmically. He was still breathing. He was still living. How could I dare to cut the line between here and death? I buried my face back into the silk shirt.
“Don't look away, child. You must face your fate,” he whispered.
“He's still breathing,” I replied.
“He's fresh. His blood will be that much more satisfying to you at a warm temperature. Didn't you taste mine?” he asked.
I nodded into his shoulder.
“It was cold, wasn't it? Think of how much more your craving will subside with warm blood. One bite will satiate that thirst,” he continued. “One small bite will sustain you until at least the ritual. It will make it so much easier for you then if you practice today.”
I took a deep breath. We were standing right in front of the nameless human, watching his face twitch slightly as he slept. He hardly moved aside from the occasional twitch of his lip or the flutter of his eyelids. He was deep in a peaceful sleep.
“I'll help you,” Sirus whispered.
He walked wordlessly over to the human and pressed his nail to the main artery bulging from the neck. Red blood appeared instantly and trickled down. It looked strikingly bright against the pale skin, carving a path as it crawled down the collarbone. I licked my lips.
“One taste, Riley,” Sirus assured me. “One taste will put all of those mortal fears to rest.”
Hypnotized by the sight, I rested my hands against the human's knees and leaned forward. I drew closer to the neck without much effort. It was as if an invisible hand pushed me in the direction of the blood flowing from the wound, guiding me gently towards salvation. This was the moment I had been dreading, yet I felt compelled to fulfill the action.
As I neared the wound, I could smell the salty fluid and licked my lips again. A hunger pang rippled through my gut. It was unlike the hunger I had for the apple. That was a mere muscle memory, a gut response to seeing human food. But I was no longer human. Seeing the blood had prompted a paranormal instinct that I had read about in fantasy novels and seen on silver screens. I was losing control to the thirst. It was quickly drawing me in.
And I simply couldn't stop.
Chapter Nine
The blood smelled like honey and milk. It was warm and wet, trickling freely down the bare neck of the sleeping human beneath me. I bowed closer to the wound and stuck out my tongue as my fangs elongated.
Just one bite…
I retreated with a grunt.
“Riley, please!” Sirus implored.
I turned to where his voice was coming from. It was enough to break me from my daze, and I realize how close I had gotten to the body. “I can't and I won't!” My voice held an edge of panic and desperation. “Please.”
It took every ounce of self-control I could manage, but I turned on my heel and marched from the room, disregarding the booming voice calling for me to return. It was maddening to be surrounded by the pressure to feed. As much as I wanted to satiate my thirst, I wanted to do it as morally sound as possible. My resistance to feeding only made the hunger hurt that much more, drowning me in a blistering headache that made me hear voices.
Th
e voices grew louder as I sprinted down the hall and sped down the steps, taking them by two's in order to reach my room faster. A few more steps would lead me to the comfort of my bed where I could curl up and cry into my silky pillows. The crimson shifted as I ran, bursting into rays of light that illuminated my path.
Was I going mad?
I reached out for the door knob and collided with the wood, crashing into my room while tripping over my skirts. I hit the carpet with a grunt and sobbed loudly. It didn't matter if anyone could hear me. I didn't care.
“Riley?” asked a masculine voice.
I shifted my gaze. Adrian stood hesitantly in the doorway with his eyebrows knitted firmly together. He looked vexed. I shifted my gaze back to the carpet and rested my wet face on the ground.
“Leave me,” I groaned.
“No, I can't do that,” he insisted.
“Leave me for death. I am no fang,” I heaved.
“That is not true,” he whispered while shutting the door. “Please, let's get you off the ground. You look like a worried mess.”
“I am a mess,” I claimed. “I can't even keep myself alive. I'm horrible.”
Adrian shook his head. He gently cupped my shoulders and lifted me seamlessly from the ground, laying me out on the bed like he had the first night we had met. He cuddled up next to me and looped his arm around my waist.
“Why do you resist so heatedly?” he asked.
“I can't bear the thought of taking a life. I don't care that Sirus put him to sleep or that he can't feel pain—those aren't the only things preventing me from eating,” I replied tearfully.
He went silent for a moment while playing with the little red patch on my belt, looping it around his masculine fingers.
“Is it more than you would be stepping away from your humanity?” he inquired quietly.
My brows furrowed together as a knot formed in my throat, my lips trembling as I nodded silently. He hugged me tight.
“There is nothing wrong with letting go, Riley,” he whispered faintly. “We have all stepped away from our humanity. Every one of us has faced the trench and taken the leap. None of us are strangers to that ghastly jump. Not even me.”
“But I can't,” I whimpered.
“Yes, you can. And you will. I believe that a few days from now, you will be overwhelmed with determination. You will forget all about your worries, and you will take the first bite,” he posited. “It will be such a glorious night.”
I sighed deeply and turned to shove my face into his neck. Patchouli instantly filled my nostrils. It eased my troubled mind and put me into a peaceful state, coaxing me down from the anxious pedestal upon which I stood. I smiled.
“I can't believe you have this effect on me,” I said.
“I suppose it's not something we should ignore,” he expressed with a grin.
“And how should we honor that, I wonder?” I asked rhetorically.
Smirking, he leaned in to my pale lips and took them. His hand that had been draped over my waist deliberately made its way over my hip and to my belt. He unfastened it quickly, tossing it over his shoulder while he positioned himself between my legs. I looked up at his hungry eyes, falling easily into the oceanic blue.
“Will you take me?” I begged.
“Absolutely,” he whispered huskily.
“Will it make the pain go away?”
A sorrowful gaze filled his eyes and he bowed down to kiss me again, silencing me from speaking further. His kiss was divine.
My headache worsened as we made love. It distracted me from enjoying his body as I so desperately wanted to, and when it go so unbearable I could hardly stand it, I pushed him away.
“What's the matter?” he asked.
“My head,” I groaned.
He gently took my face between his hands and examined my eyes, his thumbs running over my aching temples.
“You're fading,” he said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
His lips moved, but no sound came out.
“What?” I repeated.
Again, no sound. The world grew dark. I slipped back into the pillows and faded into unconsciousness, slipping easily into the black void.
Chapter Ten
“My darling Riley, we can't keep meeting like this,” whispered a soothing voice.
My eyelids fluttered. I could hear the gentle hum of an ancient tune followed by the sound of squeaking. The faint smell of sandalwood. Roses. Patchouli. Sweet and salty metal. When I opened my eyes, Draven came into view. A smile instantly spread across my lips.
“Mentor,” I whispered.
“You are such a basket case,” he teased.
His husky hands held a rat over a goblet and slit its throat with a small knife, blood immediately filling the cup as the rat seized. I grimaced.
“Well, if you won't drink human blood, this will have to do,” he said pointedly.
“This is disgusting,” I groaned.
“It's survival, missy,” he announced. “And I won't hear another word in repulse. Drink.”
He held out the goblet and I took it with shaky hands. It smelled just like human blood, but I knew it wasn't the same. As I sipped the viscous liquid, it quickly turned cold and I made an ugly face.
“You asked for it,” Draven accused.
“I did not,” I argued.
“By refusing to take your first bite, yes. You did,” he retorted.
I frowned at the red liquid in the goblet. It sat still as I analyzed it, watching my reflection waver in the cardinal pool. I took another sip.
“It's better than killing a person,” I stated.
“It's better than you dying,” he added.
“Still, I find it amazing that this even works,” I commented.
“It's great when you're in a pinch. I was lost out in the jungles of Brazil one long summer in 1887. I survived off the local animals, most of which never dared to attack me. It was difficult, but it kept me going,” he explained.
I sipped quietly while glancing around the room. Adrian was gone.
“And then I went to the Americas to look for human sport. They were sort of swarthy in the Southern parts. Very satisfying. Although I didn't quit understand this practice of checking the shadow of a groundhog in order to predict Spring,” he went on. “Humans are such strange creations, no?”
I chuckled politely and stared at the viscous liquid, watching my reflection.
If we can survive on animals, we have no excuse to kill humans, I thought cautiously. I'm willing to bet I could be the first vegan vampire. I laughed to myself at my new ludicrous definition of vegan.
“There were only thirty-eight stars on the American flag then. Electricity was popping up. I witnessed my first bit of electric light at night during that decade. The age of industry was upon us. Oh! How wonderful those humans had been,” he went on.
Maybe I could sneak away before dawn and hide in the woods beyond the castle, I continued. If only I had a proper map of the area.
I looked up at Draven who was still talking with a nostalgic grin plastered to his face.
“Say, Draven,” I interrupted. “Isn't there a dangerous pack of werewolves in the area?”
His face went grim.
“Yes, dear. In fact, I was going to suggest discussing that first thing on the eve of your birthday,” he replied.
“Where do they reside?” I asked.
“On the other side of the forest,” he replied with a nod. “They live just beyond our reach. Sirus and the head of their group, Rory, had made a peace treaty some decades ago.”
“What exactly happened?” I implored.
“It was quite the scandal. One of our scouters had been killed by a shifter. Though it wasn't written, it was verbally acknowledged that our groups wouldn't coexist,” he explained. “Their customs are much different from ours. We mate for eternity while they tend to have these despicable orgies with each other.”
I laughed, but Draven silenced me wit
h a hard frown.
“It's no laughing matter, my dear. They treat their women monstrously. They engage in polygamy, something we don't find at all conducive to our survival here,” he sustained.
“I don't see anything wrong with that,” I commented.
“It's deplorable to treat their mates in such a fashion. It completely disregards their value. I don't like it one bit,” he retorted.
I frowned and stared at the crimson liquid in my goblet. I had no idea Draven was such a prude. My frown turned into a slight grin, but I fought the urge to laugh for his sake.
“Do you have a map perhaps? I have no concept of the surrounding areas,” I said smoothly.
“Of course, my dear. We wouldn't want you falling into a pack without protection,” he replied. “Not that you will be doing much scouting, but every vampling must begin as one in order to prove their worth.”
As he reached about for his pockets, I relaxed into the pillows.
“Werewolves sound fascinating. I've obviously read about them in books and seen them in movies. I can’t believe I didn’t realize they existed, too,” I admitted.
“They're a reckless sort of species who thrive on destruction and impregnation. It's a sort of primitive way to live if you ask me,” he said.
“I find it fascinating,” I commented.
“Well, don't get too fascinated with that group. They would tear you to pieces—literally,” he warned.
His hands patted over his pockets as he spun around in his chair, looking down over his spectacles with frustration.
“Where did I put that damn thing?” he asked out loud.
“Are you losing your marbles again, Draven?” I teased.
His face lit up as he procured a large portion of parchment paper and he wiggled his eyebrows in my direction.
“Not in this century,” he replied with a grin. “Let's see here.”
He spread the map over the bed and pointed across a great barrier of trees.
“There. That's the shifter colony. They occupy the mountains since their coats can handle the cold,” he explained while tracing the area with his finger. “And this collection of forest is what separates us from the beasts.”
